Your Inner Basset Hound

I think one day I'd like to write a book series called, "Ralphie," a collection of stories about an anxious basset hound by the same name. Maybe my friend Dan or Tessa will draw the pictures for me. There will be titles that loosely reflect my own experiences, such as: "Ralphie and the Sleepover," "Ralphie and the Big Scary School Bus," "Ralphie's Road Trip to California," and "Ralphie Ralphs on an Airplane (AGAIN.)" I guess if we follow Ralphie through adulthood we can expect books such as: "Ralphie Decides to See What Psychedelics Are All About," "Ralphie Learns to Drive a Truck," and "Ralphie Moves to Texas."

Before I got Guthrie, who appears to be a mix between a hound dog and a Great Dane, and I been thinking about adopting a Basset Hound. They're just so funny- I think their comic appearance appealed to me more then anything else. They are adorable puppies and weird looking adult dogs, with saggy eyes and funny wiener dog legs and dinosaur sized ears. But they've got character, and if there's one thing I admire in people and dogs, that's it. That, and a tender heart. 

I went back to see my therapist recently for a little tune up. I still feel funny writing that, like maybe I should call her my spirit guide or really observant cheerleader, or something. In any case. it was great to see her and she reminded me again that an anxious mind is not something you can think your way out of. She suggested I run 3-6 times per week, because, quite frankly, the best thing I can do is stop thinking so much and just get some of this energy out.

So I have been running more, dragging Guthrie with me, and I do feel much better when I get home, sweaty and spent. It's very different from walking or biking, which I do everyday. I'd like to start swimming, too, so one day when I'm eighty I can be just like my Grandpa Dave. :)

On a side note, we were taking a morning walk yesterday and Guthrie wasn't paying attention to where he was going, and he ran his head into the bumper of a parked SUV. I kid you not.

Last night I was checking my Facebook, and I felt myself starting to slide down the rabbit hole. It's all the same shit, the habitual feelings of sadness, the FOMO (fear of missing out), the incessant comparing of myself to others. I must say, a positive fallout from the Facebook phenomenon is that it has been a boon for therapists nationwide. Both my Mom and the lady I see tell me that they have multiple clients, particularly women, who come to them in tears saying things like, "I saw a picture of my friend's wedding, her marriage is so perfect and love will never work out for me." Just as a reminder, in case you have been spending too much time on Facebook: EVERYBODY has their shit, even if they have handsome husbands or new babies or a killer sense of style. Myself included.

So, instead of sliding down the proverbial rabbit hole I decided to make a change of course, so I logged off and typed in: "Basset Hound Puppies" into Google instead.

I figure when all else fails, looking at goofy puppies is better then subjecting oneself to social media. 

The shots that really got me were of basset hounds running.  Here is an example:

 

Here is another one:

See? I'm laughing again! Looking at this made me think about my therapist's suggestion to start running more. Although I have decent running form, I think this is what I feel like on the inside sometimes. We all have our inner basset hound, who just needs to run down the beach, little paws akimbo, losing their shit. 

I have also been working on mindfulness lately, slowly trying to re-train my brain to live in the present. I can do it for about 20 seconds at a time right now- watching a tall patch of grass blowing in the wind, a candle on my windowsill, taking a few deep breaths on the front porch. With practice, I will be able to stick with this exercise for longer, and perhaps one day I will be fully present with my cheese sandwich and bowl of tomato soup, savoring each bite, instead of worrying about what it will be like to parent a teenager, before I am even pregnant. (Although to be fair, parenting teenagers is pretty fucking frightening.)

I guess the moral of the story is that when it comes to running, or mindfulness, the goal is to break it up into smaller pieces. This actually speaks to what I was writing about a few weeks ago, regarding Procrastination and Perfectionism. When we feel overwhelmed by the task at hand, doubtful of our capacity to roll with the punches and take risks, that is a sign we may need to start smaller. My goal this week was not to run a half marathon, or even train for one! It was to run three times, to the pond by my house, and back. And my goal for writing this week was not to pen the first chapter of the next great american novel- it was to write a post about basset hounds. 

The hard part is knowing that I have to do this every week, and slowly start biting off bigger pieces as I am ready. And maybe one day I will run a marathon, or write a book series. Just not today. For now, I will take it as it comes, and try to harness my inner basset hound. And when I am done for the day, I will lay my head down and rest, just like this little guy.