Last Run of 2020 ... a metaphor

My last run for the year 2020 is in the books.  My family and I  decided to spend new year's weekend at the lake.  I haven't run out here in the winter so, since it was the first time, I decided to take a route I knew well and was reasonably short.  The route choice turned out to be sort of a mistake.  I was glad I intended it to be a short run and it wasn't too cold. In retrospect, I realized that the run today was pretty much a metaphor for 2020. 

The run started out on the road in front of the lake house, just after sunrise.  It is a dirt road and the footing was a little dicey but not horrible.  I took extra short strides, kept my feet under me, and stayed on the part of the road where it looked safe and where I thought I had some decent traction. 

Then, in the middle of the run, the situation deteriorated and I realized I was totally unprepared for what I was facing.  I turned down an unpaved back road that ran along a lake.  In the summer it is beautiful.  Today the road surface was ice-covered and so slippery I had to walk in places to keep my feet under me.  A man in a pickup truck stopped to ask if I had ice cleats on and told me to be very careful because it was bad all the way back to the main road.

At this point, I realized that my plan for pace and cadence on this run was thrown out the window.  There was little I could do but accept the situation and press on.  I resumed my run, moving along carefully, each step a decision, and then, after the foot was planted, a short wait to discover if I'd chosen poorly as I began deciding where my next step should land.  I was thankful to be warm, not rushed, and not in any major distress.  I was determined to stay that way.  

Towards the end of this back road portion of the run, there is a steep hill.  It's a struggle to get up without walking on a good day.  Today the hill was completely iced over with small puddles of water scattered at random places.  The water seemed to have polished the ice to a smooth, transparent sheen before collecting into these little basins.  I ended up slogging through a snowbank, nearly in the ditch to even get up to the top of the hill and back onto the main road.  

Now, about a mile out from the house, the footing was getting better but was still very tricky.  Of course, there was the added danger of traffic to contend with. Many drivers had no sense of how slippery the road was or maybe knew but didn't care.  Perhaps they felt it was their right to ignore the conditions.  A few times I paused my run to step into a driveway allowing some vehicle plenty of clearance and allowing me an escape path if I needed one.

At the end of my run, I looked back and realized that I made it without getting hurt.  Perhaps not the way I intended, certainly slower than I wanted, but I made it nonetheless.  For that I am thankful.

Tomorrow, for my first run of 2021, I'll take a different route, but will be just as careful.  I learned a lot today.  My expectations are different for tomorrow's run and I'm already looking forward to the time when the chances of falling are greatly reduced.