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Running with Wolves PDF Print E-mail
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Animals > Wild
Written by Elaine Martin   
Tuesday, 10 February 2009 14:46
All my life I have loved the thrill of competition.  At first as a child, the feel of warm wind on my face, pounding down the track at a meet.  Imagining the runners at my heels are wolves on the hunt, spurring me on until my lungs burn and my heart nearly bursts with the effort. But as years passed, the hardness of a twelve year old girl's body made way for softer curves, and the distractions of life dimmed the fire to race at any cost.  How odd it is to find that flame alive and well inside me twenty years, a husband and four children later. Here in my Alaskan cabin I share my life with my family and a pack of wolves.  Well, they are in actuality sled dogs.  But the blood of the wolf pack flows in their veins as surely as any wild wolf.  Individually they are but mere friendly dogs, always ready with a happy wagging tail, hoping for a scratch in that special place behind the ear.  But something mystical happens when you harness a team of ten or so of these "dogs" and set off behind them on a sled into the frozen night.  They transform themselves into a focused single entity, bent on one thing; to run.  Run fast.  Run far.  Run and don't look back.  It seems they even forget I'm along at all sometimes.  When I call out a command to take a turn in the trail they give a little start and glance back as if surprised I'm there.  I thrilled to realize they also love the race.  They love to catch and pass another team. They seem to smile as they run by.  If they spy one up ahead they strain into their harness and quicken the pace to close the gap between us.  My legs are not swift anymore, but theirs are.  They have become my legs.  When we run into the mountains at night with the moon bright above us, and only the gentle sounds of runners on snow fill my ears, it is easy to imagine I am one of them, a member of their pack running into the wilderness.  Sometimes the draw of what lies around the next corner is nearly impossible to resist, and I am late getting home again.  The wolf in them is most apparent when out of the dark rushes a moose across the trail.  They surge ahead in expectation of a kill, and I have to bring myself back to my human form and call out "On by!" Life is complete when dreams come home to rest, and you find the fire to compete alive in those you love and call your friends.  What an honor it is to be running with wolves.