I skipped my group run this morning so I could sleep in; I figured since it was only seven miles, it would be easy enough to do on my own (and yes, I do recognize the insanity of the words “only seven miles”). So I headed out about 10:30am. (The one nice thing about running in winter is that you have the option of running at a time other than o’dark thirty; not so much in the summer, when it’s hot and sticky before 8:30am.) It turned out to be kind of a crappy run. Sometimes you just can’t get into the groove of things, and despite listening to a podcast of NPR’s Wait Wait, Don’t Tell Me, featuring my Public Radio crush, Peter Sagal, today was one of those days.
The one thing I like about running in the winter (and especially in the snow) is the dogs: the big ones are ecstatic to be outside, and the plow the snow with their noses, running in circles and chasing each other. Dozens of dogs were out today, and their owners mostly took them off the lake path so they could tear through the half-foot of snow, chasing after balls and toys and sticks.
As I headed home, I passed a guy and his dog who were making all the passersby smile. The dog, a big yellow lab, had a whole freakin’ tree limb in his mouth. The circumference was easily bigger than my upper arm, and the branch was probably close to four feet long. The dog couldn’t have been happier: following his owner, wagging his tail, a tree in his mouth. As I passed them, I asked the owner if he was going to throw the branch for his dog. “I just threw it for him 33 times,” he said.
Wow. Even Monte (who thankfully only plays fetch with lightweight milk rings) loses interest after a dozen or so rounds.
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current book: One of the America’s Best Essays collections. I’d go look up which one, but Monte is comfortably snuggled into my lap.
current music: The latest from The Go! Team. Thanks, Harriett! It’s awesome!
current socks: Still in my running socks, but am doing laundry so I can slip back into my warm SmartWool stripeys.
He must have really liked that stick.