ICE.

I tried going out this morning.  My phone informed me that it was a balmy 47 degrees.  I got up and headed out only to find TREACHEROUS sidewalks.  I made it to the park thinking that it would be better there for some reason.  It was solid ice.  The entire park.

I made an attempt to run on the side paths, but they were soup and soaked my feet in mere seconds. I decided to call it quits and head back before I hurt myself.  I gave myself a break.  I made, I think, a wise choice.

But all the other runners?  They were either stupid, fearless or both.  I watched at least 2 dozen runners slip and slide on the ice, but they kept at it.  Apparently they had no worries about torn meniscus's and pulled calves, sprained ankles and bruised coccyx's (coccyxi?).  They seemed blind to the elements.  I was both impressed and shocked by their hubris.

Is this what it means to be a dedicated runner?  Go all out regardless of the elements?  The danger?  I could see running in a summer shower, or even a light dusting of snow, but this shit was ridiculous.  What was needed on these roads were ice boots, not Saucony.

I will try again manana and I will try to continue to listen to common sense.  Maybe when I have logged a couple of 1,000  miles on my slow-ass feet I will have the tenacity to go balls to the wall like these crazies.  Until then, slow and steady and breaks when nature decides to kick me in the balls.....