Smart or Sissy?

Ted has developed a sore throat, and hinted Saturday about possibly taking Sunday off for our long run. I didn't encourage him either way, figuring he'd come to his own decision, but eyed my MP3 player collecting dust in the corner. Since he has started training for Broad Street with me, I have left my old tune friends at the door and opted to spend the quality time with my husband instead of those boys from Alabama.

And as much as I LOVE running with Ted and as good as it is for me, I had kind of been missing the quiet morning runs with my songs.

So when Ted told me to go ahead Sunday morning by myself, I didn't object. Sunday mornings were always my favorite time for my long runs. I love running in the morning, and find Sunday mornings particularly peaceful. This certain Sunday morning, however, was met with different obstacles.

I have run in snow. I have run in rain. I have run in hot, humid weather, and I have run in bitter cold weather. For reasons unknown to me, I have managed to avoid the ice. Not patches of ice here and there and there that you can see coming. I'm referring to the layer of glass that I was met with stepping off my front porch.

Because this was my first encounter with black ice, I shrugged it off, thinking I'll just be careful until I can run on the side of the road, then it will be fine. It wasn't fine. My long 10-miler I had been looking forward to takes me on a route through boroughs, then onto a township road with a fairly decent shoulder. This 10-miler turned into 4 and a half when, after running for about a quarter mile on the township road, the ice didn't diminish and I figured it wasn't worth it. I had already slipped many times, and almost completely landed on my back end if it hadn't been for the street sign. This particular long run wasn't crucial, and I figured I would rather cut it short than finish with an injury. (In my defense, I turned around with the intention of completing a 6-mile loop on sidewalks, but again, blamed the ice and went home instead).

If humans were equipped with tails, my tail would have been between my legs on that run home. Guilt burdened me, and I felt like I was giving up...should I have toughed it out? Was I being too easy? Regardless of the ice, the lack of human company I had grown accustomed to was apparent, and I asked myself if I had seen the ice as an easy way out of a run.

Which comes to the question du jour...was I being smart by bailing early? Should I have sucked it up? Reason tells me I did the right thing...it was dangerous to be running, and it would not have been a good run. The runner side of me tells me I should have pushed through...very little can be seen as on obstacle, and ice is just another good story to tell.