As Leonard states, “The race across the Gobi Desert was different…The experience had changed my life. Inspired by Gobi’s therapy dog appeal, Leonard began interacting with his fellow athletes and even risked his standings to carry the canine across tough stretches.Įven though Gobi had no idea what a therapy dog was, she fit the profile. Enter Gobi, who paced Leonard to a second-place finish and a new perspective on life. Early-on he makes it clear that, “I’m not here for fun.” For him, fun and competing were mutually exclusive. Leonard, a practiced competitor, was in the race for the win, a last-chance opportunity to prove to the world that he could still be competitive. My theory is that as a would-be therapy dog, Gobi scanned the available runners and instinctively selected Dion Leonard, a distrustful, habitual loner with a troubled past. And even if he thrived on the adventure component, hanging out with the tent crew would have been a far easier solution. Moreover, competitors were required to pack their own food, so any sharing would become a considered sacrifice.
Running 80 miles is not exactly an easy meal ticket and most likely would barely replace the incurred calorie deficit. Perhaps, but that cannot be the entire story. Incredibly, this resolute dog materialized somewhere in the middle of China’s Gobi Desert, scanned the competitors in a 155-mile stage-ultra and selected Australian runner Dion Leonard as his companion for the next 80-odd miles of adventure.Īt first, I thought that as an enterprising stray he simply showed up for a free handout.
Meet Gobi, a sturdy, sandy-colored mutt with Chihuahua-style ears, a flagship tail and the focused stare of a runner determined to put in the miles however difficult they might prove. Book review by Laura Clark for the Spring 2018 edition of our Trail Times Newsletter.
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