Chased a barking dog: fight, flight, or freeze?

This morning, I decided to test my ankle to see if I could resume running.  It was 7 a.m. in Mbarara. The sun was shining warmly - a beautiful morning. The mist was still sitting over the fields, and the road was quiet except for the occasional bird and the sound of my shoes on the gravel.

I had just passed a farmhouse when I noticed a dog.

The dog started barking. To me, his bark did not signal that he acknowledged me. It was the serious farm-dog bark that says, you are not from here. I do not know you. 

Then he started coming toward me.

So of course, I ran. And no, I didn't run quietly; I was screaming as I ran. 

Behind me I could hear someone shouting in runyankole, "Don’t run! Stop running! When you run, it will chase you!"

I remember thinking, What sort of advice is that? The dog is coming for me. This is not the moment for strategic reflection.

So I kept running.

The dog kept running too. He was gaining up on me. I tripped a couple of times, but somehow found my balance and continued running. 

Eish! I was forced to stop running. This was not because the farmhand told me to stop. I stopped because I was so out of breath. My lungs were screaming for air, but also my injured leg had started to complain. I simply could not keep running.

Something interesting happened.

The dog kept barking, yes, but it stopped chasing me.

Suddenly we were just standing there, a few metres apart. It was barking. I was breathing heavily. But the chase had ended.

For a moment we just looked at each other. I see you. You see me. Now what?

We often talk about our instincts as fight or flight, either confront the threat or run away from it. But there is another response that people talk about less: freeze.

Sometimes the body simply stops. It stops not out of strategy or bravery, but because we are tired, overwhelmed, or simply out of options.

That morning, I didn’t freeze out of wisdom. I froze because I was exhausted. But in that moment of stopping, something changed.

The dog was still a dog guarding its space. But once I stopped running, I was no longer something to chase. I was just a person standing there.

And it made me think about how often in life we keep running from things, like, uncomfortable conversations, decisions we don’t want to make, fears we don’t want to name, problems we hope will somehow disappear if we keep moving fast enough, grief, etc.

We keep running. We change routes. We distract ourselves. We tell ourselves we will deal with it later. But it keeps chasing us and sometimes barking louder. 

But sometimes the very act of running keeps the chase alive. Sometimes the thing chasing us is reacting to our movement. And sometimes the most unexpected change happens when we stop.  What? Yes! The most counterintuitive advice is the one that works: stop running.

Stopping does not mean the problem disappears. When I stopped, the dog lost interest in the chase. It didn’t become friendly. The dog was still barking. It was still a dog guarding its territory. But the dynamic changed. I wasn’t prey anymore. I was just… there. When you stop, you can actually see what you are dealing with. You can decide whether to walk away slowly, stand your ground, or take a different path entirely. But at least now you are responding with awareness, not just instinct.

Now, let me be clear... this is not reckless advice. Some dogs will bite you and you should absolutely avoid them. Some situations require distance. Be wise and ensure safety first.

But there are things in our lives that gain power precisely because we keep running from them. That hard conversation? Stop and have it. That fear of failure? Stop and examine it. That lingering doubt about whether you are good enough? Stop and question it back.

Because when you turn around and face something, even if it’s still barking, you begin to understand it, and once you understand it, you can decide what to do next.

Run strategically.

Walk away calmly.

Or stand your ground.

This morning, I didn’t run as I had hoped. I didn’t defeat a dog. But I learned that not everything chasing you is meant to bite you. Some things are just reacting to your running.

Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is stop.

Turn around.

And face it.