Another One Bites The Dust

Kirk runs happily down the street
His hat pulled way down low
Ain’t no sound but the sound of his feet
On a couple inches of snow
Are ya ready?
Hey! Are ya ready for this?
Are ya hangin’ on the edge of your seat?
All of a sudden
The runner slips
To the sound of the beat, yeah.

My favorite runs occur when it’s dumping snow. Last night after getting sucked into 90 minutes of eye-rolling that is Deal Or No Deal (more on that in a later post), I didn’t get out until after 10 PM. It had been snowing for a while and about 2-3 inches had accumulated on snowpacked ground lovingly polished by local traffic for some time. I was running my usual route, an out-and-back that climbs the first half-mile, then gradually works its way down to the mouth of someone’s driveway. I was enjoying a rare sub-7:00 mile under 140 bpm, when all of a sudden my feet left terra firma and I was eating fresh powder. I should have paid more attention to one of my four-legged friends who was having trouble keeping her balance on the deceptive turf. The only component missing from this scenario was the third-base umpire squawking, ‘SAFE!’ I’m not sure how far I slid, but it was enough that the dogs showed some concern over their master suddenly becoming a sled. Brushing the wintry debris from my chest, I caught my breath long enough to laugh out loud, wondering what kind of spectacle I would have made to onlookers had I not been in the middle of nowhere. Maybe it’s time for those cleats after all.