My second run training of the year, I decided to brave the weather, and march to Lake Anne Village Center. The stairs from our condo down to the paved trail were quite slippery, covered in ice and snow. The day was clear and crisp. Within 50 yards, my legs were noticing the cold and were begging me to turn around and put on a second pair of pants. My slightly-too-small stocking cap that cleverly says HAT
E—the E is crossed out, folks, making it just a Hat! Pacifist yuks all around!—anyway, the hat kept slipping up my head and uncovering my ears. Each step was deliberate, icy, snowy, and kinda dangerous.
I passed one lonely, cold person on the trail. He greeted me with a nod and a grunt that could have meant either “I acknowledge your existence on this snowy day” or “What the hell is the matter with us, anyway?” Maybe I just heard his chattering teeth, and being adept at tongues-and-interpretation, translated his noises.
Anyway, after nearly planting my buttocks onto the icy path about a half dozen times, I made it to the Lake Anne. The water was frozen within about 100 yards of the shores. I smiled grimly at the “no swimming” signs and decided to heed their warning. Walking on the snowy dock produced a satisfying crunch sound, so I ignored my patented leather-bottomed clumsiness and crossed my fingers so that I wouldn’t wind up in the drink.
And then Brian walked on the dock next to the icy lake without dying. Crunch crunch crunch.
I made it to the Village center, briefly considered popping into the coffee shop to warm myself up. Next, I briefly considered that I left my wallet at home next to the front door. I looked at my iPhone to note my time, and realized the battery had died. Oh well. People since time immemorial have managed to exercise their flabby muscles without a smartPhone, and I can do this too! I may not be a Luddite but at least I’m a careful, layered non–Luddite.
The walk is roughly 1/2 mile to the edge of the lake. I turned around and went home. I passed a few happy couples with miserable overdressed children in tow, and one bushy-haired woman carrying her shivering, sweater-clad chihuahua. Carrying your chihuahua through the snow and ice is no way to go through life, ma’am.
I made the entire journey within 30 minutes, immensely glad my walk was complete, because the danger of bruised tailboned was over. My phone is recharged, and my blog is nearly written. I don’t have much to report other than “Hey. I can walk in snow next to a lake and not die in a horrible frozen slushy morass of sweat-flavored BrianSicle.” It’s supposed to rain tomorrow. I won’t be walking in the icy slush. I’m sure I’ll find something else to complain about for y’all though.
Happy Saturday! If you live near Lake Michigan where it’s supposed to be -50F, stay indoors and protect yourselves appropriately from the dread Cold Monkey. Don’t look at me like that. You know what I’m talkin’ ’bout. *wink*