I sit here on this rainy Saturday morning, staring morosely out the window. We’ve had a so much wet snow in the past twenty four hours that we can’t possibly run because of the slush. My aching butt is still recovering from the fall I took on a patch of ice two weeks ago; I don’t know if I could run even if I wanted to. I’m depressed.
The View from the Ground
I wasn’t meeting anyone this Sunday morning, and didn’t rush while I gathered my hat, gloves, iPod, and Garmin GPS. Our regularly scheduled Saturday run was canceled due to a forecasted blizzard that never materialized. It was still cold at seven A.M., a cool twenty degrees even though the sun was shining. My lined tights, fleece-lined wicking shirt and pink jacket would be sufficient. Kirby starting yowling when she saw me pull on my hat, but stopped short when I told her she was staying home. Dejectedly, she walked to the window and stared out. I didn’t mind too much since I planned on taking her and Sophie out for a little two-mile loop when I was done with my training run.