I wussed out on my run this morning and lazed around the house. And brought a shelf of dishes crashing to the floor, but that is another story.
We ran errands this morning, scoring some after-Christmas deals and using up the gift cards the girls got before we could lose them. Then, we met some Doug's family who were driving through town on the way to Key West for a late lunch at Chilis.
Then, we got back and Doug said I could go for my run. I sucked it up, donned my winter gear and sallied forth.
Into the snow.
It was GREAT! I had so much fun catching snowflakes on my tongue and feeling the flakes melting on my face. Doug had loaded some tunes onto my i-pod since I finished listening to "Once A Runner" and they were great to hear as I was crunching around. Jimmy Buffet has an album called "Songs You Know By Heart" and my running mix today was like that, except that they weren't just songs to which I know the words. They were my up-tempo life's soundtrack. So fabulous. I'm sure I broke into song more than once.
I ran up to the park and around the trails. Even in the wind and snow, there were at least three couples there walking their dogs. They looked like there were having as much fun as I was. I was careful not to slip on the icy bridges, but I still tripped over a root (I think) and Superman-ned onto the path. I tried to channel Doug and roll, so it didn't even hurt.
So, the point is that the people in the cars that passed me on the way to the park and on the way home were totally missing out.
They don't know how much fun it is to feel the soft flakes on your head or to jump into the snowy yard when a car comes too close or to hurdle over the icy patches or to shake your booty when Morris Day says "oh, the THINGS I could do to YOU!" or to wave your hands in the air because the guy on the song says so or to take smaller steps on the turns so that you don't slide out of them (I've made that mistake before!). They don't know the joy of running so fast down that hill that you can feel your legs straining against your tired muscles as you struggle to stay on the path or to race your kid on the last bit home.
I so wish that I could explain it.