Day 46 - President's Day

I have today off. President's day, apparently. I don't know much about presidents.

Jimmy Carter was a runner, sort of. He had a PR nightmare when he collapsed in a 5K.

Bill Clinton ran, unattractively, on occasion.

Even "W" ran while in office. He had a sub-8:00 5K time. Not enough.

I like to think that Abe Lincoln ran a bit, between chopping logs and killing bears with his bare hands, but I have no evidence. I do intend to start a rumor, though.

I was president of my fraternity for a year. The economy of the house was sound and it wasn't once attacked by another fraternity. Also, the place didn't burn down. (Almost did the next semester. Not my fault.)

Those modest accomplishments would put me into the top 40% of US Presidents. Hence, I dutifully accept the honor of this holiday.

As a means of celebration, I took the dog for a run in the snow.

This isn't the same old boring snow from yesterday. Oh, no. We have brand new snow. About 4 inches of it. Hooray!

We stood at the end of the driveway. I asked the dog, "Well, what shall we do?" She was no help.

By the end of the street I'd decided to roll through 5 miles, even with the new snow. It was a holiday... for me.

We (I) decided to retrace the 5 mile course that we last did when it was 52 degrees. That was a great run.

It wasn't until about 2 miles into it that I remembered that the course was actually 7, not 5. Meh. What's 2 more miles.

The dog was beside herself. She plowed through the powder. She'd have been smiling ear to ear if dogs could smile.

The snow was falling continuously, but it didn't seem like that much. It wasn't the huge flakes, or clumps of flakes. It was just a steady fall, as if the gods were nervously tapping their powdered doughnuts.

We trudged on, at a surprisingly good clip. We saw other runners out too. And a stray cat, which made for even more excitement.

One of Mandee's distinguishing features is the fine hair on her undercarriage.

After this run, it was bedecked with ice. She's hard core!

The home stretch was as fresh as when we'd started, our foot prints long ago filled in.

The dog and I congratulated each other for a run well run.

The rest of my holiday I will celebrate as all good retired president should... with leftover pizza, a Fat Tire, and a nap.

Good running,

Doug

Numbers: 7.1 miles.