We all have these decisions to make in life.Sometimes we have to make a decision about proceeding or turning back and the wisest choice isn't always apparent. I'm not talking about major, life-changing decisions. I'm talking about everyday sorts of decisions, for example, take the downtown connector or stay on I-20 and go to the Moreland exit, get gas here for a $1.74 or hope that the next station will be $1.72. These everyday sort of decisions can stump me sometimes. usually I can make a pretty good choice, and then there are times, when right as I pass the point of no return I realize with that sinking feeling in my heart I have made the wrong choice. And of course, the worst the choice, the more "sinking" that feeling is. Today, I made a miserable, wrong decision that could have gone very bad, and it was just as I literally stepped across the point of no return that I realized it was a choice I made from a stubborn, silly heart.
To tell the story, I have to give you a tiny bit of background. I am training for another 1/2 marathon. The race is in a little less than 2 months, and my training is going really well. The race is all trails at a horse park, and I am looking forward to a different adventure with this race. Usually when folks train for races they complete shorter runs during the work week and have a long run on the weekends. This weekend I was on schedule to run 8 miles during my long run. I was excited to reach this benchmark because its an important distance in preparation for the rest of the training.
So, on to the story! This morning I woke up excited for the run, and ready to get going because I had several other things to do today. I knew it was going to be raining, but I also enjoy running in a light rain. As I headed out, it was already drizzling and the air was pretty cool but the first 4 miles were actually really comfortable. My lungs and legs felt great and the drizzle keep me feeling comfortable. I pulled on my jacket around mile 3 because the drizzling had started to turn into a real rain and I decided it would be best to stay as dry as possible. I didn't start to question the wisdom in my run until mile 4 when hail started falling. It was small hail, and although it stung a little bit, it wasn't enough to make me seriously consider ending my run short. In fact, it quickly stopped and turned into a more steady and heavy rain. At that point I started going over my options: finish now with a solid 4 miles, or run another mile and turn around and finish with an admirable 6 miles, or just press on to the end of the 8 miles. The rain must not have been falling very hard, because I didn't actually even consider ending the run. I knew I would continue on to the end. And so on I continued. At mile 5 I momentarily thought about heading home and getting out of the rain, but unfortunately, I didn't entertain the thought for more than 5 seconds. It wasn't until about 50 strides past that I realized I should have turned around and headed home. But at the end of those 50 strides I was at the bottom of a gigantic hill, and it was either run on and finish the 3 miles or run up the hill and head home. The option was clear: run through the miserable rain and finish the last 3 miles because I had passed the point of no return. It somehow seemed that at the bottom of that hill either choice would mean running in the pouring rain and being miserable and since my shoes were already soaked through, I might as well stick it out to the end. I will not lie and say I enjoyed the run. I hated every soaking minute of it and entertained my mind with rescue stories most of the way home. I envisioned any number of people who knew I was out running being worried and driving the neighborhood looking for me; a couple of police officers and ambulances drove by me and several times I considered waving them down and asking for a ride. Perhaps all the cold and wet went to my brain because once I was SURE I saw a familiar pair of long legs and a Ford right ahead of me the had pulled off the side of the road waiting to take me home. But I was wrong. It turned out to be a Frontier of the same color and in the rain I am sure you could understand how I could mistake a frontier for a ford. So on I ran, and ran, and ran, until I ran up the stairs of my building and struggled with freezing fingers to punch the code into my front door and manage to wrangle it open so that I could take on another set of stairs and then fumble with the key to my front door. After successfully forcing my frozen fingers through these tasks which ought to be easy, I immediately removed all my wet running clothes and went start for the hot shower which I stood under and said, "ow, ow, ow" until the tingling in my limbs stopped and I felt human again. And as I drank the hot coffee to warm myself from the inside out after my shower, all I could think was, "why didn't you just come home after 4 miles?" Maybe one day I won't be so stubborn, but today I am just thankful I made it home before it started to snow.
