Why was running the race such a big deal to me? Because I was able to run and finnish it. Your thinking, "um no big deal Dallin. So did 50,000 other people." And I would agree with you except for the fact of how grateful I am to be able to play sports and run again.
Last August, it would have been out of the question. Three months prior to the close of my two year volunteer LDS service mission, I was assaulted by a drunk/high guy while on a ferry with my companion, from one Island to another. He, as stated, was very drunk and upset that we had name tags which stated the name of the Church we represented, The Church of Jesus Christ, of Latter-day Saints. He asked if we were Catholic or Protestant, and when we explained that, while have many similarities to both of these major religions, we were in fact different. He didn't like that answer and told us to get out of the islands because we were not welcome. We tried to explain, we are just there to help and server, not force anyone to listen to us or convert, we only want to add to the truths they already believe. He said we could not be Christians. Realizing the situation was getting out of hand fast, I told my companion we needed to move to another part of the boat. As I stood, waiting for my companion to get his stuff, the guy suddenly flipped out, jumped out of his seat and came at me. I backed up and told him to chill when I realized all too late that he was going attacked me regardless, I started to turn to run, but just as I pivoted left to right to turn tail and run away, he hit me right to left across the face, hard enough that I momentarily blacked out. I was thrown down the aisle like a rag doll. As soon as he hit me, everyone else on the boat jumped to their feet to stop him from further attacking me and they picked me up off the floor and held me like some little school beat up school boy.
Thankfully only sustained torn ligaments and soft tissue in my neck and back, not to mention a pretty bad concussion, the extent of which I would only learn about later. I was scared and shaken up but I thought it was no big deal, I had played contact sports in high school, and I would be fine. Or so I thought. As it turned out, even with the very limited medical equipment they had on the small island, the doctor determined I was hurt pretty bad and needed to get to a major hospital, back on the major Island. The only catch was, the next boat back, was in three days. And the next flight was in about a week. Thankfully, we got tickets for the boat back after three days and I was able to see the doctor in Noumea. He could tell it was bad and that i needed expert medical care. They figured that my neck was fractured or broken in certain parts, meaning that peices of bone were just free floating, and if jared could severally injur my spine, even paralize me. By this point, my mission president had consulted with the Area medical doctor and my family and the Area Presidency, and they had all determined that the best corse of action was to send me home, to the states, to recive the medical care I needed. This meant, the end of my mission, due to the fact that I only had 12 weeks left, 6 of which were part of my request to extened. It was a crushing blow. It all happend so fast. Within a week of the incident, I found myself on an airplain to New Zeland, then to L.A. and then home.
I was only in colorado a few days before I flew out to St. Louis, to see one of the top orthopedic surgeons in the country. It just so happened, that my father had recently met the guy a few months before, and he was working very closely with him. After two MRI's, a CAT scan and a full body bone scan, the doctor could not believe that my neck or back was not broken or fractured in any way. He told me I had been very fortunate. He explained that had the man hit me a little harder, it would have paralyzed me form the neck, down. Had he hit me a little harder than that, it would have snapped may neck and killed me. Big gulps. I think the term is protected or blessed as opposed to fortunate, but all the same I was grateful to be alive and walking. Thanks to him and a great team of physical therapists, they set me back on the right course towards recovery. After about two and a half weeks in St. Louis, I flew back to Denver and started the long road to recovery. They set me up with a great physical therapy place here and I went every day for about a month, then four to five days a week for the next two months. At the end of six months, i only had to go once or twice a week, as long as I worked out personally at the gym, strengthening my neck and back muscles. Now, I no longer have to do physical therapy, and am back about 95% of where I was about a year ago.
In addition to the physical recovery, was the concussion. I hadn't really realized it, but as time went on, I learned that I had lost most of my short term memory capacity. This became a joke with my friends and family but was also super frustrating. Even once, I had a girl tell me I was just like the movie, "50 First Dates" haha because I would forget so many little things that it was like a first date every time! I even introduced myself to one guy who ended up being a great friend, no less than three times over the course of a few days haha! My plan was to return to BYU for the winter semester to continue my education, but due to the physical therapy and loss of my short term memory, it just was not feasible at the time. Thankfully, as time as gone on, I have gotten a ton better and now I'm almost back to normal with my memory!
This is all to say, running the BolderBOULDER was a big deal to me. I only knew maybe five or six or those 50,000+ and almost no one would have know me or my situation. That is why in life, it is so important to not be judgmental. We run along in the race of life, and only see how well we are "doing" relative to the other participants. We don't know their stories or backgrounds or the trails they are going through or the weight on their shoulders. Yet we have the common bond of being in it together. Some walk, jog or full on sprint, but eventually we all finnish and "return home."
I honestly feel so blessed to have been able to serve the Lord for two years by serving the people of New Caledonia. I love them so much and I have felt their love for me and the Savior. I don't believe the Lord orchestrated the accident, but I do know, that He has made great things come of it. I have met some awesome people and had some incredible experiences that I would never have had if life and just "gone according to plan." My vision of my future a year ago, is totally different from my present situation. The amazing thing is, its better than what I had envisioned. The Lord takes us as raw material and shapes us into instruments in His hands, to bring to pass His eternal purposes. When life doest work out as we planed, and we are striving to live right, we can relax and trust in the Lord, knowing that he is in control and wants whats best for us. Being the perfect parent, He would never allow us to suffer more than He knows is absolutely necessary for our eternal welfare. Just like the loving parent who takes their child to the doctors for a vaccine, knowing that a little pain now is of much greater value than the terrible sickness which it prevents. If i have have learned one thing, it is that God loves each of us infinitely and wants whats best for us, even more than we do. So all we can do is trust Him and move forward in the great race we call life.
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