Some Running and a Snowpocalypse

So lets get things started, been a while. Been doing that running thing. Up to about 10 miles on Sunday. That's pretty much to my place of employment and back. Seems so much shorter in my car going 70 (give or take 10 mph). I have been regularly getting 5-8 miles otherwise. Sometimes early in the morning, sometimes later in the evening, occasionally on a treadmill. Early in the morning is tough, usually have more layers and less energy, and dear god, it is like 6 AM. I used to still be drinking at that time, man I am old. I actually prefer the early evening time run. The right after work time frame works best. Because, really, dodging traffic adds a degree of difficulty, and, probably pisses a lot of drivers off after a long day of work. Objective achieved. And as I have noted before, right now it is pitch black out by like noon, so night running is harrowing journey that can be bragged about after completion. Kinda like shopping at Wal Mart at 2 AM, or eating 2 AM taco bell. The most most mundane of these is of course the treadmill at the gym. Now, some people just bash and hate the treadmill or dreadmill for those with a penchant for clever spelling puns. Me on the other hand, I don't hate it, I think it provides a few great opportunities.

First of all, it's configurable, until I can turn my neighborhood into my own personal minecraft space, I am at the whim of the majestic Kansas mountains and valleys, and by that I mean, flat as a pancake. Also, I am no master of pace, so while I may try to keep up a consistent pace, I slow, I quicken, I slack, I effort, I, well, run. A treadmill I can do all sorts of fantastic things like go up, and go down as well as go faster and slower. MAGIC! And unlike street running, there are some pretty stiff consequences for not keeping up with the treadmill, see right.

Another beauty to treadmill running, no weather. I mean, unless your gym/room turns into rain forest levels of heat and humidity when the sweat starts dripping. When you live in the great state of Kansas, weather more resembles a person with Tourettes than some semblance of temperature and precipitation patterns. Pretty sure in no other place in the world can I be sweltering in the ice storm. Not entirely sure how that works meteorologically speaking, but it happens, I swear. Then we get  what we lovingly call blizzicanes, that is if your definition of love is pants-filling pandemonium. Pretty sure, this was what happened last week.  

So generally we as Kansans are used to this kind of weather, we hit the liquor stores appropriately, get our heavy blankets out, order pizzas as emergency meals, and forge through. This one, on the other hand, seemed to catch us by surprise. In all fairness, last winter we had had no winter, skipped it and went straight into 'Dear God its a hurricane out' spring mode. So I guess we forgot our snow manners. Well. After some panic stricken moments, we clawed out and drove like a-holes again, no worries. That's fine when you are in a vehicle with it's seat belts and doors and metal. Running in the white aftermath, on the other hand, is like ice skating on the freeway, which is also a minefield, and tanks. No, I don't know what tanks have to do with anything, but, I felt this link needed to be shared. Anyways, back to ice follies. So off I go, running through wintry awesomeness. Now, as my blog states, I am a Sasquatch fresh out the woods. I am not, however, a yeti. My snow prowess is less than optimal. Instead of a graceful gazelle darting up and down the streets, I was more of a lumbering oaf trying to keep his balance on a sheet of ice. Which, thankfully, I did. After 11 miles, I crawled back up my stairs, victorious. Well, victorious until the blood feud with the kids bicycle Christmas present...but that is another story for another post. Until then. Stay hairy.