The younger me, who started running at 14 and obsessively hit the roads every day, would not think I was being particularly hardy. After all, I used to run in blizzards, in 100 degree temperatures, during a tornado watch (don't do this), and on sheer ice without spikes (they weren't invented for runners yet). I even had to get as ride from some random tourists past an angry bison once during a run. I've startled bears and once, a mountain lion while running. I even attempted a run after descending from a successful summit of Mt. Baker in the Cascades (it didn't go well). It's fair to say I was sort of obsessed.
That's not me anymore. My personal low temperature cutoff for outside running of -20F has changed to about 0F. If it's nice out, you might find me hiking or snowshoeing instead. On a work trip in a sketchy area, I'll use the hotel gym instead of nervously venturing out to run like I might have in the past. Awful winds, torrential rain, and snow blowing sideways have the potential to derail running plans.
Back when I used to run races (and occasionally win them), being a runner was a big part of my identity. After decades of running and two knee surgeries, I'm still a runner, but not as often. The younger me might have felt bad about this. I don't, though.
The need to put in the mileage no matter what sometimes felt like a burden. Now I run when I want to, and do other things when I don't. I'm in better shape than younger me, who, while skinnier, didn't lift weights or do any type of cross training.
So you can call me a "hardy jogger" if you want. But I'll just smile, because I have good memories of my more hard core, faster running days. They're behind me, and that's okay. There's still a lot left ahead.