This morning, in North Alabama, we awoke to 8 inches of snow. That is more than this native Floridian has ever experienced in her life. I knew it was coming, and I could hardly sleep for the growing brightness in our bedroom and maybe the child-like hope that work would be canceled, which it was. But then I went outside with my sister's dog, Jethro (we are keeping him for the weekend while she and her husband attend the National Championships, War Eagle!), and the snow was up to my knees. I stood there with my mouth hanging open and looked at my neighborhood. Even the streets were covered in white and the snow completely enveloped Jason's 4runner.
As Jethro tried to find a suitable spot to use the bathroom, I marched through the snow in amazement. I had on Jason's down jacket and my pajama pants with a pair of his running shoes over my thick wool socks. The snow came all the way up to my knees, got in the oversized shoes, covered my socks, the works. It was cold and fun at the same time.
And that leaves me with one question and that is, how does one run in this kind of snow? High knees? Slowly? Carefully? I think, I would be amiss in my running experience if I did not at least give it a try. I probably will not venture out onto any major roads (although, I don't think there will be many cars on them either), but I will take it easy through my own neighborhood. Or, I could follow Garfield's lead and take up hibernation until the vernal equinox. But I think we know what my choice will be... Stay tuned for the snow running report!
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