Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Capital Crescent Trail, 10 a.m., Dec. 6, 2005
—(Photos courtesy Sevans)
This is what awaited me this morning (only it was solidly covered with fluffy snow at 7 a.m., overlaying deadly patches of ice).
I'm from Connecticut, via Boston. Over the years, I have learned to tune out completely whenever our local D.C. weatherpeople mention the word "snow," which I believe they use synonomously with "rain" or "really cold" or "cloudy" or "Safeway is having a sale. Go now and buy milk."
But this morning it actually happened. And it was my first chance to try running in the snow, with my nifty new SportHill InFuzion Zone Three Running Pants (for temps from 0 degrees F to 40 degrees F), and their cousin the jaunty Sporthill Infuzion Hat (color="wintersky"):
With my ZONE three pants and that cute little hat, I was looking good.
But wait, something was missing.
Ah, I needed coverage from waist to neck! So, I put on my LLBean "Silk Pointelle Camisole," topped with my long-sleeved dri-max spring/fall top, covered by an old ski turtleneck shirt, covered by ... by my totally GHETTO green/gray puke colored sweatshirt that my daughter FOUND somewhere.
A final touch? The $2 throwaway gloves I bought for the marathon (and cleverly saved).
Thus sartorially decked, I set out.
10 a.m., after much of the snow had melted.
I was toasty warm.
And ... it was bliss. Utter, utter bliss.
I ran the path in its virginal state, hearing nothing but the crunch of my shoes and my own labored breathing.
(Susan, you didn't tell us how when the wind blows, the snow flutters off the pine trees to the ground, causing a momentary whiteout. I held my head up and caught the snowflakes on my face.)
It was silent. And white. And lovely. And I ran my three miles slowly, and I didn't care.