Running From Death
The story of the scariest run of my life
Winter in Nebraska is long, cold, and cruel, so an unseasonably warm day in early April has crowds flocking to the popular trails and lakes to feel the warmth of the sun on their skin for the first time in months.
The chance to get outside wearing shorts instead of a parka was enough to lure me and my dog, Penny, to brave the crowds and take a quick run around the lake. She’s been running with me for years and was more than happy to join me on this beautiful day.
The heat of the sun felt almost stifling after hiding for so long. The breeze was warm, and everyone from young families with strollers, cyclists, and walkers were out on the trail. The trail is paved, but winds near and far from the lake, undulating through areas shaded by trees or exposed to the sun by open prairie.
It was, perhaps, a bit too warm for Penny, who hadn’t yet shed her winter coat. We continually left the trail to head to the water’s edge so she could take a drink, cooling her paws and her throat in the icy water.
After stopping for Penny five times in the first two miles, I began to grow irritated. At this point, I just wanted to get finished, but she grew more and more insistent on pulling me towards the lake as we reached an area where a broad swath of prairie…
