The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood,
and I—I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference

-Robert Frost

Each day, before I step out the door, I have a choice. I can go or stay. This morning, the choice wasn’t easy. My legs were tired from accumulating 16 icy miles yesterday. The memory of a fall crossing an iced-over bridge over Ship Creek was fresh in my mind (and on my rear). Last night I slept like a dead man and awoke like one too. I piddled around, drank coffee, checked the weather, checked Facebook, checked my blog, checked Facebook again, contemplated what witty status update would truly capture who I am as a person… the procrastinating was interminable. Finally, I packed my breakfast, lunch and fresh cookie from Jen into my trusty North Face, and set out. My legs felt like wood. Clumpy. My core felt sloppy. I wasn’t looking forward to meeting up with the glare ice I encountered yesterday. But, with a little help from Pandora and a reluctant but willing cardiovascular system, the gears got into motion. As much as I wanted to catch a ride into work this morning, by the fourth mile, I was loving it. An inch of fresh under my Yaktrax kept the slip factor low, and conditions were downright pleasant. 31 degrees, and lightly snowing; perfect for a lovely crunch and bite underfoot.

Point is, you make your choices and you commit, in running as in anything else. Like Frost said about this poem, taking the road less traveled might seem loony to others, hence the ironic sigh. But only you can judge the path you’ve taken. I hope your path rewards you as much as mine!