In general, I'm still against cold weather, but the beauty, and remarkable deadening of every sound, make a snowy run a special treat. When conditions are perfect, all you can hear is your own breathing and the rhythmic unmistakable crunch of the snow compressing under your feet.
Slushy, car trodden roads don't cut it. One needs more or less virgin snow. And being first in after a respectable snowfall is the absolute best.
Hence my disappointment when I found two pair of tracks on my trail, one human, one canine. I guess to be precise, there were three pair, two of which came from the dog.
Undaunted, and only marginally crestfallen, my dog and I proceeded to double up those tracks.
With the leaves long gone from the trees, the trail's been looking a bare... thin... a little too much like the top of my head. But stick a little snow on the limbs, a little more on the trunks, and presto, you have a distinguishing salt-and-pepper look.
Hey trail, you look... different. Have you been working out?
Though my fingers were on their way to numb, and my toes were already there, I wanted to try a new photography app that is supposed to make for "stunning" panoramic images. (Just what I've been looking for!) A peaceful, snowy trail would make the perfect setting...
... if the app could match up the brightness levels. Meh... the quest continues.
Winter running can be a challenge. Even with all the best gear, and with fresh snow to mush through, you still gotta step outside, in the cold.
The good news is, as soon as you take that first step, you'll start to warm up, and soon you forget that it's cold. And that lasts until the last step of the run, when you can't wait to get inside. The part in between is as good as any run on a beach.
Ok, almost as good.
Gear up, buck up, and head out. You'll be glad you did it. And you'll impress the hell out of your neighbors.
Numbers: 1.4 miles on snowy streets and trail... heels were super tender, so took it short and slow.