Brrrrrr!!

I'm currently training for the Boston Marathon, which means that I'll be spending lots of time deepening my friendship with the New England winter over the next few months. In my many years of running, I've become especially fond of Saturday mornings, the sacred time I set aside for my weekly long run. Whether I'm out for just over an hour, or nearly three, whether in the height of summer or the depth of winter, I always feel blessed to have the roads, the scenic countryside, and the newness of a day mostly to myself. Today I outran the temperature... which says more about how cold it was (8 degrees) than how far I ran (14 miles). Adjusting to the thin, frigid air took a few miles, but brought the reward of the beauty of a sunrise blending hues of salmon and ruby, the faint cheeping of winter birds foraging in snow-draped woods, and having a jacket-clad Clydesdale trot alongside me, the two of us tracing the half-sunken trajectory of a quintessential New England stone wall. Furthermore, the beard that I've been cultivating since November performed brilliantly, keeping my face warm, though attracting some puzzled looks from the few motorists, peering through their own frosty windshields, who passed me on the otherwise tranquil country roads.

Now for another enjoyable part of my winter Saturday mornings... curling up in the sunshine that illumines my reading nook all morning, and making my way through more of the medieval Norwegian epic I'm reading. Enjoy your weekend!