Hot. Sweaty. Mess.

OK, hot as in body temperature and not looks. Far from the looks end of things over here.  Let's just say a "sweaty mess" between us friends. You know that you've had a darn good old fashioned training run when you pause, reflect and can say "damn, that was good!"  All the while, standing there in sweaty running gear splattered in road grime and salt. Brand new sneaks crusted with salt. Wet like there is no tomorrow.  A couple of little stones and rock salt in your sock to top it all off.  There is nothing like it.  I guess there probably is something like it but nothing that I can think of right now.  Last week's long run was 16 glorious miles in the great outdoors.  There is such a feeling of accomplishment when you put your all into it, are rewarded with a runner's high and workout gear that seriously needs to be picked up with salad tongs and put in the washer (no idea where salad tongs came from).   

This past Sunday was the end of week 9 of training.  It felt like it was Ground Hog's Day was celebrated this week instead of last week because boy did it feel like Déjà vu.  It felt like it was Ground Hog's Day was celebrated this week instead of last week because boy did it feel like Déjà vu. Sorry, I had to. Snow.  Treadmill.  Snow. Treadmill. I did brave a night run on Beacon Hill and along the Charles a couple of days after a storm. All set there thank you very much. Wow, two lane streets turned into very narrow one lane streets. Cars still completely buried in snow from the first snow storm several weeks ago.  The only visible sign that a car was in a snow mound?  The tiny sliver of what resembled a side mirror.  I felt like I was the poor little frog caught in that 80's classic video arcade game Frogger. Ribbit. A player inserted their quarter, grasped the joystick and was now skillfully navigating me across streets while dodging cars, trucks and busses.  Moving onto the top of the screen and the river.  The Charles river.  Instead of dodging logs, alligators and turtles, it was ice, snow drifts and more ice.  Ribbit.  With another snow storm this weekend, I'm guessing I'm going to be spending a bit more time at the gym than I had wanted to.  Oh well, spring has to get here sometime with warm weather.  Right?  Warm weather to make me even more of a hot, sweaty, mess.  That's right.  A sweaty mess.

Until next time, keep on runnin'!