But poems aside, the snow is getting me down. We got dumped with about eight inches of the wet and dreadful stuff. It snowed most of the day and then (sneakily!) slowed down mid-afternoon, only to lash out again.
This is how it looked out the backyard.
I know, I know--it's pretty. But after looking at this for five months I kind of wanted to see a little bit of green. Or bare pavement! Or the god-honest ground.
This is the dog digging for moose poop in the backyard. She loves moose poop, can't keep her away from the stuff. She also loves horse poop, though that's only a problem during the summer on the Campbell Creek trails.
What depressed me so about the snow (another rhyme, sorry) was that the trails and roads were just becoming almost, kinda, sorta runnable. I was becoming excited! I have my new road shoes all picked out! And then this. I spent the early afternoon slumped on the couch eating pretzels, it was that bad.
Then I pulled myself together and got myself to the gym, where I ran 12 miles on the treadmill. Sadly, I'm starting to like running on the treadmill, or at least I don't mind it as much as I once did. There's a zen to it. You can zone out and daydream (or at least I can. MM fell off the treadmill last week, hee, hee. Don't worry, he wasn't hurt, though he did end up with a teeny scrape on his finger which he of course had to show me. I think he wanted me to kiss it but I was making dinner at the time). Usually, I write in my head. It write such wonderful and pithy passages while running on the treadmill! Unfortunately, I rarely remember these by the time I get back home.
What I enjoy most about the treadmill, however, is that you can't slow down. You have to maintain the same pace. You have to relax and hurt and then run beyond the hurt, and I love that phase, love when the hurt hits and I have to run through it. So in one sense, I don't mind the treadmill that much. It's starting to feel like a friend.
|My new BFF: The treadmill at Planet Fitness. .|
I'm also in love. Yes, and MM is jealous but he'll get over it. I'm in love (love!) with the Brooks Glycerin 10 shoes. I don't actually have a pair yet so I'm in the pining away stage, that heavy infatuation stage, when I can't stop thinking of these shoes and wanting these shoes and knowing that I must, must possess these shoes as soon as possible.
I've never run in Brooks, isn't that something? And I love my Asics oh-so-much. Yet I'm ready to make the change. (I also run in cheapo Adidas trail shoes with little cushion or support on the trails and love them as well, but on pavement these old legs of mine demand a bit of cushion.)
|I love the wide toe box. I don't love the price--$140. Ouch!|
I'm also reading this book. It's about running, of course, and it's quite good. Daniloff, a recovered alcoholic, runs marathons in all the cities where he once messed up his life. It's a way of making amends and reclaiming his spirit. Maybe we should all return to the places where life dealt us harsh blows or where we betrayed someone or had our heart stomped, and run marathons. I love the idea, don't you?
Thanks for the book, Caleb. I am reading it slowly. I am savoring.
Tuesday: 12 miles
Thursday: 6 miles, lots of hills
Saturday: 12 miles