I will make you a promise.

From this moment forward, I will run with either Nathan or my cell phone.

So let me tell you about my run.

It’s chilly but not cold. I set my iPod to This American Life and 5 miles. And I’m off. It’s still daylight. The snow is mostly gone off the sidewalks. I feel good.

The episode I’m listening to is about Bait and Switch. About how people can be gullible and get caught up in things and have a hard time getting out of them. I make note of a Suburban I’ve seen a few times. He has stopped at a stop sign and has a yellow legal pad in his hand. But it’s a neighborhood. Hard telling what he’s doing. I cross the street, make sure he’s not following me, and keep running. Not long after that, I pass Nathan. We chat and run past each other.

And I keep running. I’m doing well. Nice stride. It’s easy. Feels really good.

I’m running on the sidewalk. I see a lady about a block in front of me, walking her dog. It’s about dusk. She yells and waves at me. There’s a guy over there in the greenspace – a little area that goes downhill between the road and a trail. She tells me she’s already called 911 and asks me to stay and make sure she’s okay. The guy is crawling in the grass. There is still snow in the grass. She ties her dog to a lightpole (asking me not to come near her- she’s jumpy), calls her husband to come, and walks toward the man. She keeps asking if he’s hurt or if he needs help. He doesn’t say anything.

And I’m standing there watching. With nothing. No cell phone. No running partner. Nothing. Watching her. Watching her dog.

The guy wasn’t bleeding. He looked confused. I could hear sirens in the distance. I never felt unsafe.

Until the lady’s husband pulled up. The guy in the Surburban. With the yellow legal pad.

At that point, I started to freak out a little. Tried to figure out which way out was the least uphill in case I had to run. The lady rejoined her dog and the husband went to physically help the man in the grass. He helped him to his feet just as the police arrived. The man in the grass got in the back of the cruiser, appeared grateful to help, as police cars and fire trucks and ambulances continued to pour onto my little running street.

I made eye contact with the lady from across the street. She waved, yelled, “thank you!” and I wished her and her dog Maxine an uneventful rest of the night.

And away I ran. Like I wasn’t in the middle of some drama involving lights and sirens. I was worried that Nathan would hear them from wherever he was in the area and worry about me. Getting home as soon as I could was what I was focused on.

I don’t know what I would have done if I had been the one to spot the man. Or if the other lady wasn’t there. If it weren’t for her, I would have seen him. Without question. I guess I would have knocked on someone’s door and asked for help to help the man. Even if I had a phone with me, other than calling 911, I don’t know what I would have done.

I tell myself it’s because I was listening to stories of people making small decisions that endangered them. But I’m not sure that’s the case.

Moral of the story? A phone or a running partner. Preferably both.

Amen.