The Gambler (or so says Kenny Rogers).

My first four runs, almost runs and non-runs of 2014 bring to mind those old Kenny Rogers lyrics that stay in the back of your mind for weeks once you catch them:

You've got to know when to hold 'em

When it's raining on New Year's Day and someone is handing you a plate of french toast and a hot cup of coffee, it's important to take a deep breath and realize missing a day of running for carbs, PJs and a good book may not be the worst thing in the world.

Know when to fold 'em

Today, at Mile 4.65  of what should have been a much longer, faster run, after running in the middle of the street in car treads with sleet falling like tiny needles, falling on an icy sidewalk, and arriving approximately 90 seconds after a cab found its way up onto the sidewalk and into the side of a building.  I only passed two other runners in those 4.65 miles this morning, each of them running in the middle of the street reflecting my own stupid smile back at me.  We didn't need words to have this exchange; only a little nod and an icy wink got the point across:

Runner 1: Holy shit, this was a colossally stupid idea!

Runner 2: I know!  But we're the only ones out here - pretty great!

So there I was: cold, soaked, unsteady and sore from an icy fall.  This was mile 2.  What made me keep going was not only the distance back to my house; it was knowing that other runners set out with the same die hard idea and that, perhaps, I'm a little badass.

Know when to walk away

Watching the rain hammer into the ground for the second day in a row in South Carolina earlier this week and begging the running gods to give me a sign.  More rain.

Two hours later and still watching the rain pelt the grass, sand, patio, trees and everything that was once beautiful.

Sucking it up mid-morning and going to the gym with my dad to run 6 miles on a treadmill that had likely not seen any action since mid-2006.  But 6 miles is still 6 miles and there are worse things to stare at than palmetto trees swaying while one runs.

Know when to run

Waking up on day #4 of vacation feeling alert, rested and ready for 10 miles on trails running around swamps, the bay, the beach, golf courses and palmetto trees so thick you might think twice about cutting through them.  When the air is crisp but you don't have to layer up; there is not hat or gloves; no thermal nothing on your body; and the only thing you have to remember is to take a left on Lighthouse Road and you'll end up at a lighthouse.  This is stress-free, happy running.  There are no deadlines or race pace or repeats.  This is where I am when I'm running free and it makes every difference in the world to remember it all year long.  And then 10 miles turns into 11 and you're flying.  Just flying.

He said, "If you're gonna play the game, boy, you gotta learn to play it right."