Lovin' Lost Lake

And so the sunshine continues. I swear, the difference between looking out the window and seeing sunshine and seeing rain/clouds is enormous in terms of mood, outlook and even energy levels. I have been disgustingly perky lately.

Yesterday, after a morning and early afternoon of work (and things are heating up in our Anchorage office--ouch!, glad I'm safely in Seward, hee, hee), I ate two pieces of raisin bread and got ready for my run.

I swear, is anyone else addicted to this stuff?

I drove a few miles out to the Lost Lake Trail, tucked nicely away on dirt roads. Because the roads were slipperey I assumed the trails would be too and wore my spikes.

These babies get the job one but they're HEAVY. They must add a good 1/2 pound to each foot.
Aren't they terribly sexy, hee, hee:

Within the past couple of weeks, Lost Lake Trail has opened to snowmachiners. This is both good and bad. Good in that it grooms a nice, firm trail through the snow for runners. Bad in that the noise is deafening, and if you're running with a dog you've basically got to grab its collar and drag that shaking beast off the trail before the snowmachiners swoop down to claim both of your lives. (Actually, because the trail is so hilly and curve, the SMers are moving slow enough that except for the noise and intrusion, they are little bother.)

The Beebs is terrified of the snowmachines but thankfully we ran late afternoon, when most of them were heading off the trail, so that after the first 1/4 mile, we only encountered one on that long, long trudge up the mountain.

Each time I run this trail I wonder what the hell I'm doing: The constant uphill running, the icy footing, and the way my breath gasps in my pathetic chest as I wheeze and pant and struggle my way higher and higher and higher.

But then the trees open up and I look across at the mountains or down at the town I've recently left and I'll feel that sense of being somewhere both bigger and more magnificent than I'll ever be.

I love that feeling.

This one is for my mom, thanks to the good-lookin' snowmachiners who snapped the shot (as I stood wet with sweat and trying to keep my teeth from chattering--too funny!):

Then it was time to run down, down, down the mountain: Wheeeee! The footing was perfect, packed but with enough loose snow on top to add more leverage on steep areas. I couldn't stop smiling, I was so happy, and weaving down through forests of spruce trees, I thought: This is what it means to be free. This is how it feels to be completely and totally ALIVE.

It was SO awesome.

Hope everyone else found small slices of awesomeness in their lives.

Running: 5.5 miles

Reading: "Interpreter of Maladies," by Jhumpa Lahiri