It's not the snow. It's not the ice. It's not the sleet. It's not the wind.
Though, I really do hate the wind.
No, the worst part is the monotony.
I only have one decent home-based route that doesn't include the use of sidewalks that likely won't see the sky again until March. Though I have been known to run in deep snow, it's makes for a couple of pretty cold feet, and we all know by now that I can't really go looking for cold feet for a while.
So, I'm stuck with the same route, every day.
One of the joys of running is the freedom to do it anywhere. Being tied to the same path, on the same streets, steals some of the magic.
But, in some ways, monotony is good. Not being distracted by newness can have it's advantages.
First, you can put your full attention on traction, which on days like today is not easy to find. One glance away from that layer of white death that you're trodding on, and you may find yourself flat on your tookus. Or your face. Or in the ER.
And the slush... you need to lookout for the slush.
Second, running the same route, day after day, leaves your mind free to explore itself. Without the distraction of anything new or interesting, your run can be a meditative exercise. The rhythm of your breath, and the rhythm of your steps (when you aren't sliding under a car), can turn your brain into a blank slate, perfect for finding inner peace, truth, and where you left your library card.
And the third good thing about monotony, well, there isn't one. And really, the first two weren't that great.
Still better than a treadmill, but I miss my trails. I miss my other routes. I need some clear sidewalks.
If I only had a snowblower.
Numbers: 3.0 miles, same as yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that.