I always run with my cell phone. Except yesterday. And then I was reminded of why I always run with my cell phone.

Back in 1985, when I started running - bringing a cell phone with you wasn't an option, because there were no cell phones. (I know kids: crazy, right?) But now, I've got a GPS watch, a cell phone, and an app that tells me when I make a wrong turn on a run. Because I'm psychotically safety conscious, I make sure I tell someone where I'm running, and how fast I'm going, and when they should start looking for my body. (I joke, but every runner should make sure someone knows where they are.)

Yesterday, I had been on a teleconference, so my phone was nearly dead. I made the decision to run without my phone. This wouldn't be momentous for most, but for me - it's a big deal. (See: paranoid, above.)

Because I am a psycho, I left detailed instructions with Dave: here's where I'm running, I'll be at the Daylite Donuts no later than 4pm, if I get there early, I'll start walking up Paris Road, and if I'm not there by 4pm, start backtracking my route, because I must be hurt.

Raise your hand if you think this worked out. 

About 20 minutes into an easy 4 mile run, my left calf/Achilles tendon pulled. Or maybe tore. Who knows? But it was impossible for me to run another step. So I started calculating, it's 15 minutes before 4. I can almost make it to the New Hartford Library and use their phone. I hobble to the Library, use their phone to call Dave...and he doesn't answer. Three times. So I leave a message. (Most women reading this can probably imagine what I was thinking.)

EVENTUALLY (read: 15 minutes later) Dave finds me limping down the road, exactly where I said I would be. He was getting his hair cut, it ran late, and somehow he couldn't reach his phone...which was in his pocket.

Raise your hand if you think he followed any of the explicit instructions I left.
And that, my friends, is the difference between men and women - my BFF would have followed the instructions, a guy just wants to get the job done.

But, he did deliver Ben & Jerry's Phish Food and provide me with an ice pack, so there's that.

The moral of my story: always run with your cell phone. 

P.S. Thanks to the one gentleman in the red car who bothered to stop and ask if I was okay as I limped and cried my way down Oxford Road. He even offered me a ride. THANK YOU.

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