I was running last night in the dark. Led only by the dim blue glow of my headlamp my shoes crunched noisily into the snow. It was the kind of crunch that is painful to hear, because it is like stepping on dry chalk. I tried to run fast to warm up. I could feel my nose go numb within half a mile. After a mile, thick encasements of ice wrapped around my beard. Subtle movements of my face would shake a miniature snowstorm down the front of my jacket. I rounded back towards the car at 2.5 miles. My buns were starting to chill, literally freezing my arse off! The fact that they have limited range of movement in running my body probably decided my brain and my other core organs needed more blood than my buns. I spotted a light coming toward me on the trail. Two homeless guys on bikes. As I ran past one of them shouted, “you’re crazy!!!” I didn’t have a proper response ready to reparte with them, as this was the coldest night of winter thus far hitting -20 with wind-chill in Kalamazoo. I replied back that I was too stupid to know better. I know I have a problem, but I was enjoying myself.
In winter is everything relative? Someone on paddling.net asked, “How thick is your ice?”
Is the thickness relative to the layers of Dante’s L’Inferno? Am I in hell and I just don’t know it?
The above pic is the current state of my paddling opportunities. So one can see why I have turned to skiing and running. It’s just not happening.