It had been some sort of week of sitting and … well, sitting. A lot of the time being a lawyer means riding a desk. So, I decide, heck, I should go for a run this afternoon. No appointments today, why not? Since I’ve been actively resisting the peer pressure to join Crossfit — three people here in the office, plus my sister are Crossfitters — I might as well show them that I don’t need the accountability. Run, by myself, outside in the Big Sky. “Alone and free.”*
Get my running gear on. Realize I don’t have my Yak Traks on my running shoes. Oh well. Walked to work and it’s not slippery.
Tell Keirsten, “I’m going for a run, see you in about an hour.”
Keirsten hollers at me down the hall, “DON’T FALL ON THE ICE!”
It’s February in Montana. We’ve had some awesome snow. And then some freakishly warm spring-like temperatures. And then some more appropriate freezing temperatures. So, yes, there’s ice. But, since it’s not currently melting, as I said earlier, the ice actually isn’t slippery right now.
I go. Run down the pretty tree-lined streets to Woodland Park. Breath the fresh air. Turn over some cases in my mind. Think about new angles on problems we’re facing. Then, wow. They obviously didn’t completely clear the snow on the switch-back path down to the park. But, I was right, the ice isn’t actually that slippery right now. And as I continue to putt down the path, I begin to realize: last time I went running outside on the ice, I had the double-jogging stroller with my two youngest kids in it. Double jogging stroller == built-in walker and fall protection.
Then, I think about some cases I’ve had with people who got seriously messed up falling on ice.
And then, I round one of the switch-backs and slip. Almost fall. I can just hear a defense attorney in my head, “so, you knew it was icy. You didn’t have to go running outside. You chose not to wear Yak Traks. You saw the ice….” Yup. My situation is definitely different than someone needing to walk their dog, take their kid to school or walking on a sidewalk to their car. And think to myself, “Go back to the Brick and get on the treadmill.”
So I do. As depressing as running on a treadmill inside is, breaking myself on ice unnecessarily would be way worse.
*and, yes. Having small children, the Frozen sound-track does play in my head.*