Reluctantly waking, staring at the ceiling, trying to find the momentum or reason to get myself out of bed rather than drifting off for another hour, inspiration finally hits. I stumble out of bed and walk a less than perfect straight line to the kitchen. I prepare my habitual coffee fix, pull my ginger hair back into a ponytail, dress in my SoCal best, slip my running shoes on and dart out the door.
As I drive up to my parents' house, the fluffy white head is peering out the window. In less than a second, she's spotted me and is running for the door. Always ecstatic to see me and knowing exactly what we're going to do, my partner is bouncing up and down on her imaginary pogo stick, unable to hide her excitement. I grab her leash and utter the code phrase "let's go," and we're off to our spot.