Ice, Ice, Baby

Well, at least it was icy when I started my run. It was more like mud, mud, baby by the time I finished.

Yes, that's right -- it snowed last night. I was planning to run 10 miles or so this morning, but became a trifle skeptical when I looked out the window and saw all the ruts of ice on the streets. Still, what else was I going to do with my morning, right? I put on my tights, 3 layers of shirts, a hat and gloves, and headed out to Waterton.As usual, there was a fairly stiff wind blowing down the canyon. But it was very pretty, with little fluffy snow frosting puffs on every plant, tree, and fencepost. I had forgotten my watch, so for once, I was going to run, walk, or shuffle without any concern at all for pace or total time. Sweet!

Except that I'm a bit of a psycho when it comes to watching the clock. I get nervous when I don't have a timepiece to pace with. Oh well, this would be a good lesson in Zen, right?

The road was covered with a thin layer of snow, foreshadowing a slick and goopy surface on the return trip. But I've been wanting to get a new pair of shoes, anyway, so perhaps getting them caked in canyon glop would be the perfect motivation to get me to take the trip over to Boulder Running Company. We'll see.

The good news? My hamstring barely clenched on me at all. The bad news? It was icily cold in the down-canyon wind, and to make matters worse, I totally bonked after about a mile and a half. What I mean by that is that even though I had eaten a good breakfast, I felt hungry and depleted, with a craving for more nutrition. Thanks to my Boy Scout training, though, I was certainly prepared. I had a Clif bar and a baggie full of Swedish Fish. I ate them all as I walked for a bit.

Thus refueled, I started running again, and actually felt pretty good. Without a watch I have no idea what my pace was, but it felt quick. I get a kick out of leaving footprints in fresh snow. I was thoroughly enjoying myself.

Since I haven't done a distance run for a while, I decided to turn around shortly after the 5-mile stick. As I headed back down the hill, I couldn't help but notice that the day must be warming up. The fresh snow was rapidly mutating into squishy mush. No problem, though -- there was still enough sand and snow along the outside of the road that I could (mostly) find a tolerably non-yucky track.

With about 3 miles to go, I felt something slapping against my left calf with each stride. That could only mean one thing -- my shoe had come untied. I glanced down to see whether it was completely undone or not...and was surprised to find it still tightly knotted. But something was definitely hitting me. I stopped to investigate.

Somehow, a small piece of nylon string had caught on my shoe. Maybe it got wedged in with a rock or something. I reached down to yank it off. But it didn't come loose. Hmm.

Further investigation revealed the problem: I had a fish hook embedded in my sole! A freakin' fish hook! It even had about a foot of line and one of those little paper-clippy things attached to it. That was what had felt like a loose shoestring. Problem solved!

Well, not really. The barb on the end of the hook had become quite solidly attached to the bottom of my shoe. There was no way I could pull it out with my bare fingers. I had to pop off my fanny pack and put on my running gloves to get a more secure grip. Hmm. Still couldn't get it loose.

I had to hobble over to the side of the road and sit on a rock to twist, pull, and wangle the stupid fish hook loose. It would've been easy with a pair of pliers, but with the fact that I had run on it long enough to drive the barb deeply into the sole, my cold fingers were barely adequate to the task.

Yeah, I know -- I could've just ripped the string off and run back to the car with the hook still in the shoe. Probably wouldn't have caused any harm. But...there was a chance (however slight) that the barb would work its way through the shoe rubber and into my toes. I figured I'd be hurting enough from running 10 miles in the snow; the prospect of a rusty harpoon embedded in my tender toe flesh just didn't sound appealing at all.

After sitting on the rock for so long, there was the usual problem of getting my legs warmed up again, but I was able to do it...and to finish the run. And yes, my shoes were carrying an awful lot of canyon mud on them by the time I made it back to the car. But overall, I'd have to say that it was a good run, and an excellent start to the day. Now it's time to get started on the rest of my chores for the weekend.

I hope you're having a good one, too! Enjoy!