Doggy smiles and earflapping--are you smiling yet?

Today was a much needed rest day.  As accomplished as I felt after this past weekend, I ended it with a bit of a bitter taste in my mouth.  My long run didn't feel great, and the bike ride ride was tough.  I made it through all the necessary miles, but I didn't get that "wow, I feel great now" feeling that makes it all seem worth it at the end.

I know that with the run, it was just an off day.  Good days will come again soon.  With the biking, I'm hopeful that happens too.  I haven't had a "wow, that was great" bike ride yet, but I keep reminding myself that it took me at least 6 months of running, if not a year, before I started truly enjoying it.  There were certainly parts of the ride I enjoyed, and I think that once my muscles and bike-riding endurance catch up to what I want to do, the love for the exercise will follow.

Regardless, I woke up this morning feeling drained and exhausted.  I don't usually look forward to rest days, but this morning I woke up with the happy thought that I would be getting some well-deserved rest after school.

My exhaustion carried throughout the day, which only added to my already down-trodden mood.  I don't like being tired at my job.  I feel like I am short-changing my students on these days.  I am by no means a "bad" teacher when I'm tired, but I feel like I am unable to give my all.  If I can't get excited about teaching, the children don't get excited about learning.  They feed off my animation, and without animation, they seem bored and reluctant.  I taught one of my favorite writing lessons today where I teach the kids how to use a different "Voice of Poetry" and speak to the subject of the poem.  They typically find this lesson hilarious as I plan a poem where I yell at the hill that looms ahead of me while I run or talk to the broccoli I'm going to eat for dinner.  But the laughter was minimal today and it was because my enthusiasm was extremely lacking.  I think I'm going to reteach the lesson again tomorrow, not because they didn't understand it (they all wrote lively poems as they talked to their teddy bears, cats, mean brothers, and pesky flies), but because they didn't love it.  Every year, I teach my children to love poetry, and it is simply because I love poetry (reading it and writing it) deeply and truly, and therefore it is not hard for me to "act" excited about it.  Today I was tired, and I could have done better.

My bad mood persisted on my drive home as I sat brooding about everything that I don't have in my life.  But then I remembered today was a rest day.  I didn't have to go home, change into running clothes, and push my way through exhaustion on a run.  Suddenly I noticed the sun was out.  I had still felt the gray gloom of our Sunday bike ride all day, and it was nice to feel the heat of the sun.  Then I noticed that I was incredibly windy out, and as I drove into Seattle, I watched the trees bowing their tops to the force of the wind, and for some reason, this cheered me up a bit too.  And then when I got home, Lucy was there to greet me.  It is impossible to be greeted by Lucy and not grin ear to ear.  I mean, really, look at that face:

When she gets super excited about me being
home and I can't immediately give her attention
(cause my arms are full), she runs to the bedroom
and begins neurotically chewing a toy until I
am free to give love.

Then, I happily put on jeans and walking shoes (retired running shoes), plugged my ears with headphones, turned on the Mumford and Sons Pandora station on my iPhone, and headed out the door into the sunny windstorm with Lucy at my side.  The first thing that made me laugh out loud to myself was when we turned a corner at the top of a hill and were hit with a huge gust of wind.  Lucy's ears began flapping backwards as if she were sticking her head out the window of a car.  She immediately looked up at me as if I had done this to her, asking me to stop the wind (she similarly does this in the rain, looking at me accusingly as if I am choosing to make water fall from the sky).  This happened a couple of times, and each time, I laughed to myself.  

Lucy also has a habit of, when feeling ignored, lagging a little behind on the leash, then sneaking up from behind and poking me in the butt with her nose.  As I walked along, lost in my music and thoughts, I was repeatedly poked as the wind picked up.  Every time I am poked, I look down to my left to see a prancing, smiling puppy, proud of herself as if she's the smartest dog in the world, saying "Hi!  I'm still here!  Don't forget about me!"  I reach down my hand, let her touch it with her nose, and then she is good to go for a while longer.  Today, however, the pokes were way more persistent than they have been in a long time, and I actually stopped a few times to give her solid pets in the middle of the sidewalk.  Each time though, her smile puts a smile on my face.  And smiles, no matter the reason, always make a person feel happier.  

So we walked, and Lucy poked, I looked down to see Lucy's smile, then I smiled.  After many repetitions, along with some earflapping in the wind (of which I tried to get a picture, but just couldn't catch), my mood suddenly felt balanced again.  No more doldrums.  By the time I reached my apartment door after our hour long walk, I was rejuvenated, re-pepped, and me again.  

Sometimes bad days happen.  And sometimes rest days feel great.  And sometimes dogs know just what to do to make everything all better again.  Thanks, Lucy.