The greatest thing and the worst thing about running in Vermont is that you rarely ever run flat. When training for a difficult race, you always have the mountains. It also means that when you’re injured or recovering (like I am today) the options on the menu range from only ‘slightly hilly’ to ‘somewhat flat.’ Me and a buddy (willing to take the slow recovery run with me) ended up doing a ‘slightly hilly’ run with a side of ‘long and gradual’ climb on a dirt road stretching out for a few miles. We brought his dog, while my neighbor’s dog, Tessie, decided to tag along.
We got to running, and talking, while both dogs ran circles around us unleashed. Normally the ‘off leash thing’ bothers me, but we are literally in the middle of nowhere, and I haven’t seen another person on this stretch of dirt since I started running it years ago. So, of course, today we ran into at least five other people walking their dogs. All the dogs were off leash (at least its fair, nobody pointing fingers). But every new ‘dog encounter’ consisted of Tessie getting chased, snapped at, and generally messed with. Nothing serious, and all ‘dog encounters’ were generally quick (it also gave Tessie something to do, besides running between our legs), until we ran into Ester.
Ester was a loud, aggressive dog who shot after Tessie like a cheetah! Tessie bolted into the heavy brush off the side of the dirt road for cover, but Ester wasn’t having it, and dove in after her. The brush moving violently in their wake, with sounds coming out like two bears wrestling! The woman (Ester’s owner) was horrified, quickly giving a couple of ‘no Ester’s’ and ‘don’t do that’s!’ Finally, realizing one of the dogs could get seriously hurt (most likely Tessie), I jumped into the brush, shouting, ‘GET OUT OF THERE!’ as authoritatively as I could. Throwing my hands around, clapping, pushing the bushes aside, everything I could do to force the dogs away from each other and back on to the road.
I quickly turned back towards the woman, who now was staring at me frozen, looking even more horrified, if that was possible.
Me, a bit out of breath: Not angry with you just trying to break the dogs up!
Woman, still bewildered, trying to hear over the dogs: What?
Me, a little louder over the dogs that have now just resorted to barking loudly at each other: Just being loud so the dogs would separate and not hurt each other! Not angry or upset with you or your dog!
Woman, smiling: Thank you.
Me: No worries, it happens –
Woman: No, I mean thank you for telling me why you were shouting. Happens at work sometimes, and it gets to you, you know?
Taking a knee, I pat both dogs, who seemed to have arrived at a peace treaty of sorts.
Me: A little emotional responsibility goes a long way.
She looked at me curiously. I stood up, adjusting my water pack.
Me: People can leave a big imprint on others with their anger.
Woman: Imprint?
Me: Yeah, what others ‘put out’ on each other. Would be great to just hear once in a while that “it’s not you,” right?
She laughed, leashing her dog.
Woman: Probably avoid a lot of silent misunderstandings.
I began to run off with Tessie in tow, shouting back to her.
Me: Probably avoid a lot of misunderstandings altogether! Have a good one.
Later that evening I told the story to my daughter over dinner. It was pasta night, and it was one of those ‘odd number’ of meat ball evenings where there would be a ‘silent’ competition between us to see who got the last one. As she gobbled up her pasta with conviction, Sarah asked why I told the woman that I wasn’t angry with her. She thought it was obvious that I was only trying to break up the dogs’ fighting. I said, we don’t always know what is obvious to others. Our emotions, especially when we’re upset, can have a good amount of energy behind them, and if we’re not mindful of what we do with that energy we can hurt others who have nothing to do with why we are feeling or behaving a certain way.
Sarah sank her fork into another meatball: So that’s what you did with Tessie and the other dog?
Me: What do you mean?
Sarah: You put out angry energy on purpose, even though you weren’t really angry with them.
I hadn’t thought about it until she said it, but she was right. I directed and summoned up an energy of anger to separate the dogs. I put my fork down, and stopped eating for a moment.
Me: Yeah, I guess that is what I did.
Sarah: Does that mean that you can put out happy energy even when you might not really be that happy?
Me: It’s not as easy, but sometimes it’s helpful to do so for yourself when you don’t want to stay in a difficult emotion.
I went to grab the last meatball, finding nothing but an empty bowl.
Sarah: Can you pretend you are happy for me taking this last meat ball?
Me: I can, but I’m not going to.
