Don't Sign Me Up For The Olympics Yet

It takes a person with a death wish to want to compete in the winter Olympics.  But watching the athletes crash sure is a guilty pleasure of mine, as long as they aren't too hurt of course.
I thought of these crazy athletes this weekend as I ran 6 miles on the snowy/icy bike trail.  I only fell once and am sporting a nasty purplish-green bruise that makes me look like I have a second knee cap.  I'm just glad that's the only injury I received.  I'd say about twenty cross-country skiers passed me on the trail and only one other runner.  Oh, the things I do to train for a Ragnar.
But then I really had to "suck it up" as Marcus would say, when I found myself locked out of our house on Sunday night.  It wasn't Randy's fault like last time, lucky for him.  Unfortunately I was wearing heels without any nylons or tights covering my bare legs.  The spare key is hidden in the back {not telling you exactly where} but it involved walking through the 6-inch deep snow/ice, down the hill on the side of our house around the back, and up the icy stairs of our 2nd-story deck.  Lets just say I clung to the railing for dear life as I waited for any misstep to send me sprawling to my death, or a broken bone.  After retrieving the key I had to retrace my steps back to the front to unlock the front door.  Basically I could've died.  Did I mention I didn't have a coat and it was 19 degrees?  Brrrr.  But I didn't die and walking through snow in super-cute heels makes me feel tough.  It should be a new Olympic sport.