Dog bite.

I always have to run the day that I board a plane. There is not much that gets in the way of my deep desire for this to occur. The reason being, what if my plane is delayed? What if they add a layover and I’m stuck for 12 hours in some random airport? What if I land, and my baggage isn’t there, and with that includes my running shoes? There is just a peace that I attain when getting a good run in before I board a plane. And there is no talking me out of it. Until this.

This past week I was gathering my bags and shuffling around the house frantically packing my suitcase for my flight. Finally, my trip away into the mountains... Hiking boots, running shoes, ‘togs’ for random swimming holes, and warm clothes for the possibility of a snowboard sesh. I needed it, this time in nature to regroup and explore. So...

I laced up my running shoes like any other departure morning, and ran out the door. Clocking into my fifth mile, I rise over the last big hill, looking at the last half-mile stretch before home. And then it happens, this numbing pain in my back left calf as I look down and see a dog clamping and tearing at me. The only thing to do was scream, and the shrill of my voice must’ve been as bad as I imagine because the dog released his grip and ran back to his house. I look down to see tissue coming out of my leg, and a massive bite mark with 6 different puncture wounds oozing with red liquid. And I continue to run.

First mistake – I never run with a phone. Second mistake – my “Ironman headphones” that I invested my left kidney in to afford, block out any warning of a barking pit-bull after my stride. Third mistake – I really should’ve purchased that pepper spray. As my run turned into a hobble, I began to cry as I realised how far I was from home, and my limited abilities to call for help. But this only pushed me to run harder. And as I neared the bottom of the hill, a sheriff drove by the same direction I was running. With every ounce of my energy, I jumped around as much as I could. I’ve never been so happy to see brake lights in my life.

I don’t think God made that dog bite my leg, but I do think he may have rerouted the sheriff so he would pass by only minutes after my incident…

I guess the rest of the details aren’t quite as relevant. I used his phone, I got to the hospital and I managed to swing by without any vaccinations or stitches. Although the reason being there is no stitches is due to the fact that there isn’t much skin to stitch. Anyway, I’m on day 5 of recovery, and the progress is phenomenal. I have lost sensation in parts of my lower leg, and this could be due to nerve damage, but as of today I have ditched my crutches and am finally feeling good.

I still don’t know why though. Why didn’t I leave for my trip? Why did it happen only hours before my departure? Was it because I was putting so much energy and hope into an epic trip? Was I losing sight of something more important? I really don’t know. But God used this as a way to keep me home, and here I am.

I don’t know if this is one of those situations where it pays to think philosophically, or just to bypass it as a freak accident with horrible timing. I’m not sure there ever is a good time to get attacked by a dog though. It just goes to show that God is in complete control. Proverbs 16:33 says, “We may throw the dice, but the Lord determines how they fall.” And sure enough, I played out how things were going to go that day, and life happened…

It’s sometimes scary to dream big as the disappointment is even more profound when things don’t go the way you’ve hoped. But that never is an excuse to not dream or plan for things that you desire in life. It’s just a reminder that we don’t have control, and that despite the bites that slow us down, God has a bigger plan. All we can do is stay in tune with Him as he shows us each day what that is.