The Highs, the Lows & Everything In Between: The Reality of Canicross

There’s something nobody really warns you about when you start Canicross.

You think you’re going running with your dog. Cute. You buy a harness, attach yourself to your four-legged friend and imagine yourself majestically flying down a trail looking like one of those incredible Canicross videos you’ve seen online. And sometimes… you do. Other times your dog stops for a poo 400 metres into the best run of your life. Welcome to Canicross.

The highs are REALLY high

There is genuinely nothing quite like that moment when everything clicks. Your dog hits the line, you find your rhythm together and suddenly you’re not really two athletes anymore. You’re a team. You feel the line tighten. You trust them to pick the trail. They trust you to keep up. And for a few glorious minutes you feel ridiculously fast. Whether that means a 15-minute 5k or a 35-minute 5k really doesn’t matter. Because Canicross has this wonderful ability to make achievements completely relative. Your first kilometre without stopping. Your nervous dog confidently passing another team. Your reactive dog standing on a start line. Your first race. Your first podium. Finally nailing your commands. Running somewhere you never thought you could. Or simply finishing a session and realising: We actually did that together.

Those moments are huge.

Unfortunately, your teammate has four legs and opinions

This is perhaps our favourite thing about Canicross. Your dog has absolutely no interest in your Garmin. They haven't checked Strava. They don't know you've been training for this race for six months. And they absolutely do not care that you're currently on PB pace. They might decide today is the day they become an elite athlete. They might also decide that particular leaf requires urgent investigation. They can fly through every training session and then stand on a race start looking at you as though they've never seen a harness before in their life. You can prepare. You can train. You can practise your commands, overtaking, starts, corners and pacing. But ultimately, you're participating in a sport where 50% of your team hasn't read the race plan. And weirdly, that's part of what makes it brilliant.

Then there are the lows

Because Canicross isn't always PBs, podiums and beautiful woodland photographs. Sometimes you train hard and the race goes terribly. Sometimes your dog isn't feeling it. Sometimes you're not feeling it. There are injuries. Confidence knocks. Training blocks that seem to go nowhere. Weather cancelling the session you've been looking forward to all week. Dogs retiring. Dogs getting older. Humans getting older too… although we prefer not to discuss that one. There are moments where somebody you've been running alongside suddenly seems miles ahead of you. And inevitably comes that horrible little thought: Maybe I'm just not very good at this. But here's the thing. You don't have to be.

You don't need to be fast to belong here

Canicross has competitive athletes doing extraordinary things. We love that.

We love racing. We love watching athletes push the sport forward. We love seeing people represent their clubs and countries and achieve things they once couldn't have imagined. But that isn't the entry requirement. You don't need a certain 5k time. You don't need a particular breed of dog. You don't need to look like a runner. You don't even need to particularly identify as a runner yet. At Pickles, we've seen people arrive convinced they're going to be the slowest person there. We've seen nervous dogs. Reactive dogs. Rescue dogs finding their confidence. People coming back from injury. Complete beginners learning what a bungee line actually does. And experienced athletes chasing fractions of seconds. They're all Canicrossers. Because somewhere between "I've never done this before" and "how can we get faster?" is an enormous community of humans who simply really love doing stuff with their dogs.

And THAT might be the biggest high

The dogs get you into Canicross. The community has a habit of keeping you there. Because the person you're technically racing against might also be the person screaming encouragement at you as you cross the finish line. Someone lends you kit. Someone helps you with your dog. Someone runs alongside you when you're nervous. Someone celebrates the PB you've been chasing. Someone understands why you're devastated when your dog retires. And someone will inevitably be standing somewhere in a muddy field holding six leads, three coats, somebody else's water bottle and a dog that absolutely isn't theirs (Ususally me!). That's Canicross. Yes, there are results. There are podiums. There are championships. And there are some extraordinarily talented human-and-dog teams within this sport. But there's also the Sunday morning group run where somebody achieves their first 5k. The person at the back being cheered just as loudly as the person at the front. The dog who couldn't cope around other dogs six months ago now running happily within a group. The rescue dog discovering that pulling into a harness is the BEST THING EVER. The friendships. The ridiculous WhatsApp conversations (Pickles Cani club - we're looking at you!). The muddy shoes. The early alarms. The shared nerves before races. And that collective understanding that yes, apparently waking up at a completely unreasonable hour to stand in a freezing forest attached to a screaming dog is our idea of fun now.

The lows make the highs better

Maybe that's actually the secret. Canicross isn't brilliant because every run is perfect.

It's brilliant because they aren't. There will be runs where you feel unstoppable. There will be runs where your legs feel like concrete. Your dog will occasionally make you feel like an elite athlete. They will occasionally make you look like you've never run before. You'll win things you never expected to win. You'll lose things you desperately wanted. You'll make mistakes. You'll learn. You'll get stronger. Your dog will teach you an enormous amount about patience, trust and occasionally the importance of spotting an upcoming squirrel before they do. And through all of it, you've got a teammate beside you who couldn't care less about where you finished. They just know: Harness came out. Human came too. BEST. DAY. EVER. And somewhere along the way, you'll probably find a collection of equally bonkers humans who understand exactly why that means so much. That's the real Canicross. The highs. The lows. The chaos. The achievements. The disappointments. The dogs. And most importantly, the community that experiences all of it together. So if you've been looking at Canicross thinking, "I'm not fast enough for that"… Come anyway. If you're worried your dog isn't the "right" kind of dog… Come and talk to us. If you're nervous about being the beginner… We've all been one. You don't have to arrive as a Canicrosser. You'll probably leave as one... Sometimes you just need to clip on, shout "LET'S GO!" and see where the trail takes you. And trust us… It's one heck of a ride. Powered by Paws. Driven by Community.

And on that note, we’re off — Jack to probably analyse a run, Katie to remind him that dogs haven’t read his training plan, and both of us to inevitably end up standing in a muddy forest at an unreasonable hour wondering when exactly this became our idea of a brilliant weekend.

The highs are high, the lows can be pretty rubbish, and sometimes your four-legged teammate will completely ignore everything you’ve practised for the last six months because there’s a REALLY good smell approximately three feet off the racing line.

But we wouldn’t change it.

Well… maybe we’d change the poo stops. Particularly the PB-ruining ones.

See you on the trails — whether you’re flying at the front, finding your feet at the back, or currently being dragged sideways towards a squirrel.

Katie & Jack x

Powered by Paws. Driven by Community.

Over and out — we’ve got dogs to run. 🐾

Photo Credits Sniper.Snaps