Many runners are well acquainted with the sound of the alarm interrupting their slumber on an early weekend morning, while the majority of San Francisco remains fast asleep dreaming until their bottomless mimosa brunches bid them awake a few hours later. Occasionally I want to hit the snooze, but I don’t have that luxury today, nor any Saturday morning. I absolutely cannot oversleep today. My crew is waiting, eagerly anticipating, biting at the bit, and never even considering choosing sleep over seeing the sun peek through the fog over the Bay.
On the best of days I run to the start, but lately I’ve been sleeping an extra ten minutes and choosing to drive, “Bad Kierstan” This is not my best version of myself. When I arrive immediately see the familiar neon and spandex outfits that let me know that these people are with me, even if I can’t remember all of their names. It’s time to get our crew.
We head up to the third floor of Family Dog Rescue. We head past a few curious-perhaps somewhat mangy-pups that slept in the courtyard having just arrived, unannounced, the night before. In the volunteer room we check out the thirty or so white boards that line the walls, advertising the names and photos of our potential running mates. We grab poop bags, treats and sturdy leashes made from recycled climbing ropes.
“Who wants Paisley?” She has an adoption appointment today so I know how important todays’ run is for her. She’s a little, fit, beautiful Australian shepherd. Under normal circumstance a perfect running partner. Unfortunately she doesn’t get the exercise she needs on a daily basis. Her innate, but unfulfilled desire to work and herd has her chewing on her own tail. Oh and she’s deaf!
Finally someone steps up. This runner will spend the next five miles positively distracting Paisley from playing tug of war with the leash and working on the 6 signs that she has learned…sit, lay, touch. The other runners tell the newbies, “really, she is SO much better- and it’s the truth.”
“Snow, Zane, who wants them?” Two 70 pound white huskies that love to body slam while running. Two people step up. Don’t forget to double harness Zane. He’s a bit of an escape artist. Apparently he ended up in Dear Mom’s bar a few weeks ago. He thought it was hysterical. We always thought that place should be dog friendly anyway. Lately, the body slamming is pretty non-existent. Snow and Zane have learned the expectations of the run.
“Next up, Matilda?” A medium size pit bull we pulled from Animal Control. A perfect runner. Stays right next to you the entire way, as long as the two of you are in the front. She’s a favorite! Dover, anyone? A golden lab with two different color eyes. The sign says he fears men, but we runners don’t buy it. He’ll lick anyone’s face that brings him for the full five miles. Sombra? A 20 pound Lab/Pit mix. We ignored her for the first few weeks she arrived because she kept biting everyone when they went in the kennel. In her defense she thought she was being delightful. Funny, since she has been running we haven’t seen any of that behavior.
I decide I want Katie. Mostly because I organize this thing, so I get first pick. And she’s the best. It just started raining, and I know Katie loves the water. She’s a Keltie mix who has been in our shelter longer than any dog should be. At first she had to live in a staff member’s office because the kennels upstairs got her too riled up, which in turn riled up the other dogs. She barked at any human who approached. I guess that’s what happens when a dog who should be in a family stays too long in a shelter, even the best shelter like Family Dog. The first block of running with Katie was insane. She chewed her leash. She barked at me. She went into the middle of the road to splash in every puddle, she pulled so hard she puked. But we all need our fellow runners encouragement sometimes. Now allows everyone to harness her. With her tail wagging, she is the dog run ambassador. I like to believe we have something to do with that change of personality. More importantly I think she is getting adopted!
Ten runners, ten dogs. We are ready to go, slightly scratched and more bruised than when we arrived. Have you ever tried to leash an excitable dog? Now, pretend that dog shares a kennel with three other excitable dogs. But we are trail runners. We have bruises anyway. We fly up the first block, and continue to be dragged through the fifth block. Then we naturally spread out. Stopping for lights and trains. Sombra isn’t biting, Zane isn’t escaping and Dover isn’t cowering. 2.5 miles in we round AT&T park. We drink from the dog water fountain. Then we head back to the shelter. We look amazing now. Ten runners, ten dogs. They are each at our side, tongues out. They are calm now. At the intersections they look to us. We treat them. They want pets. They want love.These are the dogs we would adopt (if our landlords allowed dogs in this city).
We are at the home stretch, the last down hill to the shelter, a welcome reprieve in San Francisco running. “You’ve got this. You are almost there.” The excitement of finishing a five-mile run is bittersweet, as we have to return our pups to their kennels. Our crew and our teammates, they have come to appreciate running with a group, and we appreciate them too. They have pushed our pace. They have required us to be more patient, less focused on the numbers on our smart watches. We all smile at the amazing kennel attendant who is ready with their breakfast. We are the ones who linger at their kennels. The run has allowed us to see the best version of them. And as we leave the shelter we know that they had a very large part in making us the best versions of ourselves.
Kierstan Gilmore is a long time volunteer, former adopter, foster and runner at Family Dog Rescue. When she isn’t practicing psychotherapy in her comfy chair in the Marina you can find her with the other San Francisco Trail Runners and her rescue pup Rosie chasing Karl the Fog in the Headlands.
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