There is a certain unbridled joy that comes when you run with your dog. I run like a klutz, wobbling like a fighter on the losing end just before the last knock-out punch. Often, I wimp out on hills and look more labored than one in a shackled chain gang. It's not a pretty picture to paint, but it's my reality; I have no wings on my feet. I run because despite all that's ugly on the outside, I'm transformed on the inside. Keep reading....
