A Jog in the Park

Yesterday was a beautiful day. The sun was out, the weather was warm, and I really wanted to take a bike ride or go for a run. But one thing led to another, as things tend to do. Soon it was dark, then it was time to feed the baby, and then it was time for dinner, and not long after that, it was time to put the baby to bed.

So I decided to go for a run anyway. I would have had to go out anyway--I had a video to return to redbox, and a letter to drop in the mail--so I planned a run to the nearest Hy-Vee. I layered up for a run in 15-degree weather and headed out.

Sidewalks in my neighborhood were only a bit icy, and it felt good to be out. Then, a few blocks later, I turned off the sidewalk and into the municipal golf course. The snow would slow me down, sure, but it'd also be shorter and avoid a sidewalkless busy road.

The moon was nearly full, shining from behind me as my eyes adjusted from streetlights to moonlight. Warm days two weeks ago had softened and compressed the snow, which had crusted as the weather turned cold and rainy a week ago. Each step was different as the strength of the crust and the snow depth underneath varied. And before I knew it, I was dropping my letter in the mailbox.

17 minutes one-way would not be a great pace (*). But my only run in months was the "Last Race of the Year" 5k. Besides, running in snow is never particularly quick. There was another factor, too. In college, I made the discovery that eating pizza a few hours before playing hockey is a particularly bad idea. A dinner of tacos a few hours before a run is a similarly bad idea. I had suspected as much. Now I know.

The return through the golf course was almost relaxing, despite the effort that generated enough heat that I was carrying my hat and gloves instead of wearing them. I stopped for a minute to look at Mars, perched two handsbreadths above the moon, glowing pale pink-orange. Then it was back to running, my feet breaking through the crust, searching for something solid, then launching forward again. Being back on the sidewalk was almost a let-down.

I should do that kind of thing more often.


* It was 35 minutes round-trip, with time paused while I was in Hy-Vee. The 35 minutes counts the time I stopped to admire the moon and Mars. I was too busy looking up at the sky to fumble with my watch.