Sunday, February 24, 2013

Sidewalks Optional

Vermont has been in stretch of weather marked by gray, sunless days with middling temperatures just around freezing. The lack of light and lack snow have potent numbing affect, such that you don't realize how dismal the world seems until an errant patch of sunlight shows through a thin spot in the cloud cover to point out what you're missing.

The little snow we've had in town leaves a melting slushy mess in conditions like these, and it turns a normal run into an obstacle course. Every square of sidewalk pavement seems tilted at slightly different angle and in a slightly different direction that the adjoining slabs of concrete, making each block appear like a patchwork quilt of water, slush and clear pavement. The snow-covered grass alongside the sidewalks is turning to mud as people use that space to avoid long watery stretches of sidewalk. And it's hard to guess how deep the water is: 1/2 inch? 3 inches? 

Early in the run I gingerly hopped around the puddles, ballerina-leaped over the puddles and dodged traffic in the less puddly streets in an effort to keep my running shoes dry. But a few missed steps and underestimated puddle-depths and I gave up on that charade. The water was cold splashing through the mesh of my shoes, but was nearly as bone-chilling as I expected giving the gray skies and chunks of  slush floating in it. The run started to feel like a long, fun obstacle course of jumping, swerving, splashing strides around the city. Next week, I might take the run out a country road and give real mud season a try.

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Meet The Treadmill

Last night before I went to bed, I ensured no excuse to delay my morning run by carefully laying out all the layers of clothing and random accoutrement a winter run requires. A few moments outside at 8:30 a.m. (even in the sun) was enough to scrap that plan and hit the treadmill.

Total brainstorm: I was already wondering how I would fit in my Sunday morning news gorge, the run and a few hours of work before an afternoon of fun (cocktails with neighbors, then Superbowl!) I headed down to the gym in my building stoked by the idea to watch the Sunday morning news shows while pounding out the mileage of my long run.

Mind you, this is not a large gym, but it is almost always completely empty. I rarely share it with one soul, let alone a few people.

Two treadmills face a TV and I was momentarily bummed to see one of the treadmills occupied with the TV on, and then thrilled to see Leon Panetta blaring from said TV. My treadmill neighbor apologized for having the volume up (she had to talk another gym-goer into watching it). I said bring it on, and we were both psyched to crank up the news. When another neighbor joined us on the stairclimber, he had no choice but to Meet the Press.

Note: Bob Costas and Chuck Todd BOTH need hair advice. Seriously.