I've had only one utterly dependable training partner: a golden retriever named Rockee. We were joined at the hip for fourteen years and 7,000 miles of running together. Rockee was a sixty-five-pound bundle of crazy canine love, with a white clown face that turned even whiter as he got older. He never once complained if we ran too far, or if I were going to slow. I never heard him go on and on about an injury, like so many runners do. He never bellyached if the weather was too hot or too cold. He just loved to run, especially on the trails. His limitless energy and unflagging enthusiasm were inspiring to behold. He got me running on those days when I was tempted to find an excuse not to put on my Asics, Nikes, slip on the sweat bandana, grab his red leash, and head outside. Memories are a man's best friend.