In the spirit of Bowerman’s Belfry, I’m writting a “Running is” post. When you run, when you’re putting in hours on the road or on the trails, you have a lot of time to think. One of the scenarios that have danced in my mind is what evasive maneuvers will I take if a dog charges me. I’ve developed a few game plans;

1. Find a car and run on top of said car
2. Stop running and hope the dog doesn’t attack
3. Find something to defend myself against said charging dog
4. Scream for help

First, we need to examine my past; any runner or cyclists have had to deal with an angry charging dog. For me, I grew up in the land of corn and soybeans where most dogs roamed the farms free and where most dogs died by being run over by an automobile. These dogs spent the day on the farm, sitting out in the sun, just waiting for some young kid to cruise by on his bicycle to give chase.

Remember the scene in American Flyers, when Marcus tells Davy that they’re going to meet up with Eddie to practice sprints. Well their out cruising the country roads in Wisconsin, when they cruise past Eddie’s house, Marcus gives a whistle and then takes off, Davy, slow to react, finds out that Eddie is a vicious dog, who gives chase, hilarity ensues.

I did that to a friend (Chris), when I was in the seventh grade. We were out riding our bikes, so I thought it would be fun to swing by this house that had a dog that would always give chase. This house was on a corner and I knew as soon as we turned the corner, the dog would come charging out. I put my ten speed into an easy sprinting gear and got out of the saddle, Chris was behind me, enjoying the fresh Iowa air and sunshine, thinking how pleasant it was to be done with school for the day. Ruff, Ruff, Ruff! There he comes, time to sprint; I’m out of the saddle and sprinting like Lance Armstrong chasing down Andreas Klodden. The dog, just like the Lions in the Serengeti hunting a gazelle, went for the weakest prey. Poor Chris, he didn’t have a chance, he panicked, fumbled with his gears, he tried to pedal but he couldn’t, the dog scared him and he crashed his bike.

I went up a few blocks and waited, where was Chris, what happened to him. Finally, a few minutes later, I see my friend. He tells me that he crashed his bike, well did the dog attack you, what happened, and you don’t look mauled. Turned out the dog was friendly, lucky for Chris. I just remember Chris saying “Where did that dog even come from?” I responded “I have no idea.”

Perhaps that is where Karma comes into play. When I first moved to Colorado, I lived in Thornton, I was out in friendly suburbia on a run. When, just like Forest Gump in ‘Nam, I thought “Something bit me in the but!” I look back and see this small dog; he literally bit me in the ass. It was the winter time and I was wearing tights and he bit me so hard that he put a hole in my tights. I just looked at him, in shock, in awe, what do I do, I couldn’t even think, I yelled at him and he took off running. I too, took off running, back home to put ice on my ass.

The other day, I was out for a run in the Berkeley Park Neighborhood. Running on the streets, when a large dog came charging out at me, I had no time to react. He jumped at me, barking ferociously; showing his teeth and then his owner came over and grabbed him. He (the owner, not the dog) then apologized to me and I continued with my run, making a mental note to avoid this street again and I also thought perhaps I should look into this Running Insurance.

I now need to go to the main story, the feature and the point of this post. When preparation meets opportunity. Last year, when I was out for a run, on a lonely Denver Street, I stopped dead in my tracks. There he was, a Rottweiler, in the middle of the road, staring me down. The distance apart was approximately 20 feet, we made eye contact, I thought wait, don’t do that, don’t look him in the eyes, or is that a Grizzly Bear, or wait, am I suppose to make myself look tall, I couldn’t think.

I thought about my previous runs, I’ve thought of this scenario before, I’ve played it out in my mind a hundred times, now I need to execute. No one was around and there were no cars to climb upon. The Rottweiler made his move and he went on the offensive, he took charge. I reacted, I looked to my right and saw a house with a fenced in yard and I took off towards the fence. Don’t look back, keep running, that fence was 12 feet away, I hit the fence and literally jumped the fence, which was probably the height of a high hurdle. The Rottweiler strikes the fence, barking at me, ready to tear into my Nike running shorts.

I look at him, my heart racing. I had nothing left to offer but pure reflex. Pure reflex and mankinds basic drive for survival, that somehow shouts, “NO – I WILL NOT DIE TODAY!”. I could only smile, I beat the beast. My only fear now was that the owner of the house comes out with a shotgun and tells me to get off his property. Anyway, I hoped that fence into someone else’s yard and made my way to the cross street, continuing my run.

And when I came to the place where the wild things are, he roared his terrible roars and gnashed his terrible teeth, and rolled his terrible eyes, and showed his terrible claws till I said “Be still!”

So what’s your dog story?