Strength is Good in an Emergency
I used to run a lot. I had a dog that loved to run with me. She weighed around 100 pounds. We ran 5s together whenever a local event would let dogs attend. Once, we ran a morning race in the middle of summer. The race was delayed because of some emergency and started later in the morning than anticipated. Against my better judgment, we ran the race. A half mile from the finish my 100 pound dog dropped to the ground from heat exhaustion. I tried with all my might to pick her up and carry her somewhere to get help. All I could manage was a few steps. I simply wasn’t strong enough. We were lucky, though. A pedestrian spotted us, and was able to get us in the back of an air conditioned pickup. We were both fine. I couldn’t figure out why I was incapable of carrying my dog. I assumed the heat must have sapped my strength.
I’ve since quit running and now I only strength train. I’ve been doing it for 18 months. Maybe a bit more. I’ve gotten very strong. Today I took my dog for a walk early in the morning. Same dog, by the way, but eight years older. Again, a half mile from home, maybe a little less, her back legs suddenly gave out.
This time I was able to pick her up. I did the 5 step deadlift setup and strangely thought about the mechanics of picking her up. I carried her the entire distance. I didn’t even stop. I was sweating when I got home. I was breathing a little bit harder than usual too. Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at the vet. I was recovered enough to take my squirming, wriggling gyroscope out of the truck and carry her inside. I stood there, with her in my arms, until the vet tech could get a table set up for her.
When I finally lowered her, I squatted. I broke my knees and hips at the same time and leaned over. I think I kept my back in full extension too. Oddly, I thought about the movement patterns again as I did this.
My old girl didn’t make it. She had a tumor in her spine that was causing a lot of pain and loss of control. This story may not have a happy ending, but at least I was strong enough to carry my old girl home. If I’d stayed a runner, I’d have had to cry for help. At least now, the only crying will be done by me over a glass of bourbon.
