Slipping and sliding

It's been raining for almost three days, temps in the 40s, a chinook wind carrying that hopeful smell of spring.

Except it's really the middle of winter and the once night hits, everything freezes into an ugly and cruel sheet of ice. Walking is impossible without spikes and even iffy with them.

This is how the road looked by the end of my run--pure ice.

Still, I had to run. The air felt so clean and damp and I needed to get out of the house. I tied on my Asics-with-spikes and headed out the door. I overdressed, expecting to get splashed since the roads were a mess but alas, no one splashed me. Not one driver! I guess people are a little more polite out here in the Mat-Su Valley. In the city, drivers splash walkers, runners and bikers with wild abandon.

I ran 10 miles and the views were incredible.

 

Alaska sure can have miserable weather but oh, it is so damned beautiful.

Off to write letters to famous authors in hopes of pleading/begging/bribing so that they might agree to review my humble little book. I doubt that they will; probably they won't but still, this is what one must do, it seems. Writing and publishing a book is like running a marathon. The writing is the first 20 miles; the publishing is the last six. Need I say more?

Happy running and reading (and writing, Mary, and yes, I still have to get back to you and swear that I haven't forgotten!),