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 hal...