Tag Archives: snow

Snowy Sunday Run

I was maybe half-way into Sunday’s run when I remembered something:  winter running socks do not keep your feet warm once they are soaked from running through slush.

Winter came to much of the northeast between Saturday and Sunday.  The Mohawk Valley did not get hit as badly as other areas, but we got some.   Still, it did not seem terrible to me when I got up shortly before six.  There was snow on the back lawn but not an inordinate amount.  After a cup of coffee I thought I might take a run.

The sun was not all the way up, or maybe it was the clouds making it seem that way, so I decided to wear my road guard vest (it is a reflective vest, I suppose, but in the Army we called them road guard vests).  I sometimes wonder about wearing the vest when I run on the sidewalk — am I being overly cautious and look like a big geek (which I guess I am but you don’t have to rub it in).  However, I also had it in mind to run up the hill to Herkimer College (previously known as HCCC), where there is no sidewalk.

Steven approved of my wearing the vest, “Because it’s still snowing.”

“It is?”  It was hard to tell in the dim light.  I don’t usually run through precipitation, but I already had my warm running gear on — leggings, long-sleeved ARMY t-shirt, winter running socks, hat and mittens.  The vest added another layer.

Almost as soon as I started out, I abandoned the sidewalk for the road so did not have to worry about looking overly cautious.  I wasn’t sure the road would be a whole lot less slippery, though.  I felt even more worried when I turned onto German Street.  There is generally more traffic on German so I knew I might have to get right over to the curb.  There were some major puddles by the curb and not a little ice.  Damn!  Luckily there wasn’t much traffic.  I made it to Lou Ambers Drive without mishap.

As I ran I debated whether I would actually run up to the college.  I had settled for the hill by Valley Health on Saturday.  Surely that would be good enough again.  I could go into the suburbs (that is what I call the residential area back behind Valley Health) where I would find a few more hills.  For one reason, if I slipped and fell flat on my face, somebody in a house might come out and help me.  More likely they were still asleep.  I headed toward the college.

A man was in the driveway of a house near the bottom of the hill.  I think he came out to get his newspaper and stayed to smoke a cigarette.  We waved at each other.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m thinking,” I said.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he said.

The worst part about the snow falling was that it accumulated on my glasses.  I had sensibly remembered to switch my good glasses for an old pair of safety glasses, so I could wipe them off on my shirt and not worry too much.  It was a little awkward with my mittens on.  Additionally, the snow had accumulated on my shirt as well.  Never mind, I told myself.  I can see well enough.

I did wish I could see a little better, though, because the trees looked so beautiful with the snow on the branches.  It was a lovely winter scene.  It would have put me in quite the Christmasy mood if the slush wasn’t soaking through my sneakers and into my socks.  I kept going, though, because I knew I would not be out long enough to get frostbite.  I comforted myself with the thought that a little extra weight on my feet would burn a few more calories.

I ended up running for a longer time than I had meant to, but I felt pretty good about it.  Full disclosure:  I have not been running since.  On the other hand, that is only two days.  I’ll run again tomorrow, I hope.  I might even write a blog post about it.

 

Who Said I Could Have Lame Post Friday?

Lame Post Friday is supposed to be my ultimate take it easy day.  Random observations and half-baked philosophy.  Also, sentence fragments, in which I usually do not indulge.  Oh well, I guess sometimes.  Oh dear, now I’m out of control.  Subject and predicate, Cindy, subject and predicate (when I first learned these things, I felt “noun and verb” was kind of babyish).

Where was I?  Ah yes, trying to come up with a Lame Friday post.  A random observation:  I looked out the bathroom window at work this morning and saw lots of snow.

“Who said it could snow?”  I demanded.  Nobody would confess to such a crime.  Another lady observed that we had spent all winter praising its mildness.  Now we are getting the weather we should have had in January, when we were ready for it.  That easily leads to the half-baked philosophy that adversity does not seem so, well, adverse, if we are only prepared for it.

But is that really true?  I think if we had had lots of snow and ice in January we would have been crying about it then, too.  Of course, we could have comforted ourselves with the reflection that such weather was to be expected in January.  Would that have helped?

Oh, now I have done it!  I am asking hypothetical questions.  I HATE hypothetical questions!  I can’t tell you what I WOULD HAVE done in January if the weather WOULD HAVE been a certain way.  January is over; we had the weather we had (full disclosure: I don’t remember much about January except that I wasn’t drinking wine at the time).  Wow, I really tricked myself into that one, didn’t I?

However, I see that I am over 250 words.  I’m going to call that OK for a Friday.  If only I could think of a lame headline.  Happy Friday, everyone.

P.S.  It stopped snowing.

 

 

What Was I Laughing At?

I ran on Sunday mostly because I thought it would make a good blog post. Then I didn’t write the blog post, and isn’t that typical of me?  Well, I will try to write about my run now rather than drag us all (further) down with another Tired Tuesday post.

On Sunday, local readers will recall, the weather sucked.  Unfortunately I did not realize this when I made up my mind to run.  I knew it was supposed to be cold but felt I could handle it.  I had to bring Steven to work, so I got dressed in my running clothes to do that.  Steven went out to brush off the vehicles, since it had snowed in the night.  When I went out to help him, I discovered it was still snowing.

At first I saw no reason to change my plans.  After all, what are a few flakes among friends (no, not itches and flakes; that could be dandruff).  By the time I was actually driving Steven to his place of employment, what had been a few flakes had turned into a wall of white.  Regular readers may remember my odd personality quirk that bad weather makes me laugh.  I cackled all the way to Steven’s work.

“I am totally going running in this,” I said.  “It will make a great blog post.”

I did briefly consider abandoning the notion and running in place indoors on my Mom’s mini-tramp (she said she doesn’t need it back).  But I was already dressed in my warmest running pants, and I had located my toque and mittens (they are actually my sister Diane’s mittens; she may want them back).  Anyways, the snow was likely to stop soon; you know what they say about the weather and waiting five minutes.  Making the bargain with myself that I would turn back if the sidewalks were slippery, I set out.

The sidewalks were not slippery.  The snow did not stop.  I was grateful for the mittens and the warm pants.  I only wished I had something protecting my face.  That got cold, and since I had the mittens on, I couldn’t even put my palms on my cheeks and do Edvard Munch’s “The Scream,” which kind of helps, temporarily.  It was not until I finished my run and was walking my cool-down (the irony is not lost on me) that I realized the snow was actually accumulating on my face.  If I had a smart phone, I could have taken a selfie and wouldn’t that have added something to the blog.

The run itself was not that bad.  I have not been running much lately so I am trying to be better about it.  And maybe next time I can write a better blog post about it.  Happy Tuesday, everyone.

 

Not Wuss — Winter!

Winter returned to the Mohawk Valley last night (Tuesday, Dec 28).  I could hear sleet hitting the windows when I woke up in the night.  When I got up I saw the back yard was covered with snow.  Well, we knew it was coming.

I had planned to go running today.  For one reason, I could make a Running Commentary blog post.  For another, I’m getting fatter.  And for just one more, I promised myself I would run up the hill to Herkimer College before the end of 2015.  Perhaps the rain would stop before I got out of work.

During lunch I left stepped outside of my place of employment briefly.  Cold rain was falling and a bitter wind blew.  Even more ominous for my running plans, the sidewalks were covered with ice and ice water.  Yikes!  I could probably talk myself into running in the cold, POSSIBLY the rain (although I don’t usually).  Icy sidewalks, however, are to be assiduously avoided.  I revised my plans:  I would run in place on the mini-tramp while looking at a movie.  I might still have a Boris Karloff flick on my DVR.

I was feeling dreadfully tired by the time I got home, but rather than have a Wuss-out Wednesday post, I was going to try.  Then I saw a neighbor shoveling the snow from his front walk.  The neighbors on the other side had already shoveled their walk, as had other houses.  I felt I should be a responsible homeowner.

Shoveling snow is exercise, I assured myself.  Were the shovels on the back deck?  Yes.  I went inside only long enough to put my bag down then went out and got started.

It wasn’t long before I realized that while yesterday I had worn my work shoes home, today I had sensibly changed into my sneakers.  I told myself not to worry about it.  Even if my feet got soaked, I wasn’t going to be out there long enough for it to matter.  I would be out there maybe a half hour.  Half an hour is a good amount of exercise in the middle of the week.

I started on the sidewalk.  It was crunchy, iced-over snow, but it wasn’t too deep and it wasn’t too heavy. I had my reward right away when a nice lady came along walking her dog.  I petted the dog and chatted with the lady.  She said she had seen me walking a little white dog.

“Did you lose her?”

“Yes, she had cancer.”

She offered her condolences and I petted the dog again before they moved on.  I do hope to get another dog one day, possibly in the spring.

As I continued to clear the sidewalk, a gentleman from the apartment building next door came out and started shoveling the end of their driveway.  We chatted a bit about winter, commuting, and store-brand cottage cheese.  This shoveling wasn’t a bad gig at all.

When I started on the end of the driveway, things got a little less fun.  Between the snowplow piling more snow up and our vehicles going in and out of the driveway, the snow and ice was more stubbornly in place.  I worked away with determination.  I was rewarded with further conversation when the neighbor who lives on the other side came out and started shoveling their driveway.

I ended up shoveling for an hour.  I did not get the whole driveway done, but I cleared enough that Steven should be able to pull in and park.  I wasn’t sure I could get a blog post out of it but decided to try.  You be the judge:  is this better, worse, or about the same as one of my Wuss-out Wednesday posts?

 

Come on, Spring!

Technically, Saturday Running Commentary could come back today, but I don’t feel like writing about that run. I ran in place on the mini-tramp, because it was raining and snowing. I watched the rest of that silent movie The Monster that I was watching before (took me three runs to see the whole thing) (and I’m still not clear on who the titular monster was). It continued to precipitate on and off for the rest of the morning, with the wind whistling in an alarming fashion (I always worry somebody will come along and drop a house on me) (it happened to a sister of mine once; long story), so I drove to the post office instead of taking my usual walk with Tabby. This afternoon, however, the sun came out and I thought I would give it a try and perhaps write a Pedestrian Post.

I hid upstairs while I changed sneakers, so Tabby would not get too excited too soon. Of course that merely delayed the inevitable. She was jumping and barking long before I was done puttering around looking for hat, gloves and poop bags. At last we were on our way.

The sidewalks were almost completely bare and dry. I reminded myself to appreciate that and not repine over the dropping temperature. For heavens’ sake, it was in the 60s yesterday. Did it have to drop all the way into the 30s? I kept telling myself it was above freezing, resolutely refusing to speculate on what temperature the windchill was inducing. Tabby did not seem to notice anything but trotted along happily, stopping many times to sniff.

We headed down Bellinger Street toward Meyers Park, Tabby leading the way. I looked around, testing my theory that sunshine makes anything look better. I suppose it does, but I am tired of seeing brown grass and bare trees. Courage, I told myself. Things will grow eventually. At least a lot of the snow is melting. Of course, one effect of that is a lot of old dog poo is appearing. I tried to keep Tabby from sniffing it. “You know what poo smells like,” I tell her. Oh, I know, she probably smells a lot more variation that I do.

Every once in a while the wind would completely die out and I would feel warm sunshine. It never lasted long, but it gave me hope. However, soon the wind started whipping more coldly and my sinuses were not happy. I persevered, because Tabby was so obviously enjoying herself. Also, I must admit, the walk felt good on my legs. I do love to walk. I tried to concentrate on that and ignore the wind. It helps that I have a sweet, cute dog. I look at her trotting along and I feel better about everything.

As we approached home I saw some shoots coming out of the dirt at a neighbor’s house. Yes! Something growing! That makes three houses where I have observed signs of life. It was really not a bad walk, but I sure did appreciate a cup of hot tea when I got home.

Surviving the Squall

I had an adventurous drive on Sunday which I thought might be good for a blog post all on its own. We’ll see.

My destination was Chadwicks, to meet my sister and members of her family for church. She had told me directions over the phone Saturday night, which I had written down in a sloppy fashion in a notebook I happened to have handy. I wrote them out again in a slightly more legible manner (I am known for my terrible handwriting).

The directions seemed pretty straightforward: Higby to Graffenburg to Oneida Street. I knew that Higby Road was anything but straightforward: hills, twists, turns. Steven and I once had a rather alarming experience getting lost in the fog on Higby Road. However, no fog threatened Sunday morning. Just a little snow. What could possibly happen?

I had meant to allow get lost time, as I usually do when going to a new place, but I forgot I had to gas up. I almost took a chance on the gas, because “you go by a gas station” was included in the directions, but I thought better of it. Well, I probably still had plenty of time. I usually over-estimate these things. Anyways, it’s OK if you’re a little late for church. You just sneak in quietly and sit in the back.

I had also forgotten just how steep parts of Higby Road are. Up, up, up I went. Like many vehicles, mine does not like to go uphill for sustained periods of time. However, we both persevered.

More worrisome was the snow. It had been coming down in a gentle, Christmas-cardlike fashion when Tabby and I had taken a walk in Herkimer earlier. Now it was finer, more determined, and blowing. A mean snow. It was not exactly a storm, I told myself. More like a squall, perhaps exacerbated by the wide open farmland I was driving through.

Parts of the road were covered with snow, so I drove with care. I could rock this. The twisty, turny nature of the road was a little troublesome, but that, too, I could rock. Still, it seemed to be taking a long time to get to Graffenburg Road. Ah, there was the golf course sign. Easy to find.

And then things began to suck. The road had lots of snow on it. The wind blew curtains of white across my windshield. I slowed to a crawl and put my vehicle in 4-wheel drive. Not full 4-wheel but the “Auto” setting, which is kind of in-between. I wondered if I shouldn’t have chosen full 4-wheel but contented myself with going extra slow. It would be perfectly fine if I was late for church.

I soon found myself laughing out loud. I may have mentioned my odd quirk of laughing at bad weather. It usually happens when I am right out in it, not so often in my car when I am concentrating on staying on the road. I actually was not sliding around much, and the humorous aspect of the situation began to tickle me. It’s March, for heavens’ sake! I started running again. What is with these blizzard conditions? I wondered how late I would be for church and pondered an alternative route home.

At last I reached the turn for Oneida Street. According to my directions I was three or four minutes from my destination. I looked at my clock. 10:26. This could work. Once I was in the village the weather seemed calmer. Perhaps all the houses tamed the wind somewhat.

I made it to church just on time. I found my sister and her family. I could see the day brightening as the sun came out. Perhaps my ride home would be fine. As it turned out, we drove into Washington Mills for breakfast and I went home a slightly different way: lots of Higby, no Graffenburg. I was happy to get home where I could nurse the headache I mentioned in yesterday’s post.

Some readers may now be saying, “Ah yes, that headache. Could it be that the drive was NOT that sucky but the headache made it seem so?” I say keep your tabletop psychology for yourself. I braved the elements and lived to tell the tale.

Getting My Feet Wet

Yes! Today was the day! I started running again. Naturally I’m going to write a blog post about it.

I told myself all day I would run, so went right upstairs to put on my gear as soon as I got home. It was a lovely 40 degrees out, still cool enough to cover my legs and arms, I decided. I put on a pair of long johns I had been wearing under my skirt on Sunday plus my Army long-sleeved t-shirt. When I started putting on socks and sneakers, I hit a snag.

My running socks are all very short. Did I really want 5/8 inches of ankle exposed? I did not. I found my one pair of winter running socks. These were long enough. And very thick. I pictured them all soggy after I had run through a couple of the puddles I was sure to encounter. Finally I settled on a pair of just regular socks that looked like they might be athletic socks. For heavens’ sake, I was only going to run about 20 minutes. How bad could they be?

I had contemplated running in the road instead of on the messy sidewalks. After all, almost everybody else walks and runs in the road. What am I so wimpy about? Well, it isn’t exactly being wimpy. It is a matter of principle. When I am driving I HATE encountering pedestrians in the roadways. It’s scary! I don’t want to hit a pedestrian! And I don’t want to bash into another car trying to avoid the pedestrian. Yes, I am capable of navigating the roadways with pedestrians, bicycles, motorcycles, cars and the myriad unexpected obstacles one encounters. But I like to give myself every advantage. Thus, I prefer to give other motorists the advantage of NOT having to avoid hitting me when possible.

All that said, I may have still run in the road, but when I was driving home I observed that the only really dry surface was in the center of the road. As long as I was going to run through puddles, I reasoned, I might as well be in the safer space.

The sidewalks weren’t completely covered with puddles. There was also lots and lots of gushy, mushy snow. Not slush, mind you. That’s wetter and gushier. This was soft enough to make for a really challenging running surface. I kept telling myself how many more calories I was burning with the extra effort. And breathing prayers of thanks for the occasional patch of bare sidewalk.

I changed the direction I was running in a couple of times to avoid pedestrians walking in the road. I just felt too stupid slogging along through the gush while they strolled at their leisure down the center of the road, with a fine disdain for their own safety and the peace of mind of any drivers they encountered. I crossed the street a couple of times in search of better sidewalks, but I don’t know how much good that did.
At least it added a few more seconds to my run. After all, I was running for a certain length of time, not a certain distance.

It did not take long for my sneakers to start to squish. You know how the sidewalks get: snowbanks on either side holding a lovely reservoir of cold puddle in the middle, with or without ice. Sometimes I tried to run on the sides where there was ice or snow, but it was really easier just to plow through the middle. Most of them did not have ice on the bottom.

Breathing was not the most pleasant, but I persevered. Soon my legs were… not exactly hurting. Were they… yes! They were WORKING! Then they started hurting. Well, I was prepared for that. I knew it was going to be one of those runs where the only satisfaction I get is the fact that I ran. One of those “Dammit, I did it!” runs.

Incidentally, today’s title occurred to me early in the run, when a little water had seeped through to my socks but they weren’t soaked yet. You know that expression “just to get your feet wet,” when you do a smaller version of something big you intend to do. Like having a walk-on in a play before going for a major role. Or running a 5K while you train for a marathon. Writing a silly blog while you work on your novel.

Well, I thought I was being clever. If you don’t agree with me, just chalk it up to Tired Tuesday. At least I ran (dammit).

Maybe I Should Have Backspaced Over It

That’s it, then. I’ve got the dreaded type-a-sentence-then-backspace-over-it disease. We all knew it was coming. One day I’m saying things like, “I can SO write!” and “I LOVE to write!” The next thing you know, I hate every word that comes out of my meager mind. Many writers have been there. Those that have not… oh, who are you kidding? We’ve ALL been there!

I had thought of doing a Monday Middle-aged Musings about the horridly cold weather. I was going to call it “Mid-Winter Musings.” I don’t really have anything new to say about the cold and the snow. Oh, except for a line I keep repeating that I think the huge snowbanks are a metaphor for my troubles: getting bigger and not likely to melt away any time soon.

Actually, it’s a pretty good metaphor. You look at snow falling and you think, “Aw, that’s nice. It’s pretty.” Because you’re in your warm house looking out, and it has not snowed in a while. Maybe it’s almost Christmas. Maybe you’re out in it, but it isn’t all that cold. You can look at individual flakes and they really are beautiful.

Then it begins to pile up. You have to shovel it and drive through it. It’s cold and the wind is blowing. You track it into your house and it makes a mess. As time goes on, the pristine white banks get all dirty and nasty. Wait a minute, where am I going with this? Life is pretty until it’s not? To hell with that!

I think I’ve talked myself right out of my blues, just from sheer cussedness. You say life sucks? I say kiss my fat ass, it does not! And I’ve written almost 300 words that I do not intend to backspace over. This has got to be the most disconnected post I’ve written yet. For the record, I’m only drinking tea.

Tale of a Trip

I go back to work on Monday, so technically this is the last day of my vacation and the next two days are a perfectly ordinary weekend. In fact, my vacation is over now, because I would be home from work by this time if in fact I had gone to work today (still feeling a little gleeful that I did not). Therefore, I will feel free to make this yet another Lame Post Friday.

In fact, I went adventuring today. First I walked my dog Tabby to the post office to mail some postcards to friends and family. It began snowing as we left, and the snow came down thicker and thicker as we went. Tabby used to take exception to precipitation. When she felt rain or snow on her back, she would stop walking and look at me, apparently expecting to be magically transported out of the situation. Wouldn’t that be nice? Today, however, she walked along nicely, stopping to sniff the usual number of times.

I found myself laughing as the snow got thicker and thicker. Big, fat flakes and lots of them. It’s just my weird thing, laughing at bad weather (OK, one of my weird things, shut up). As we passed a lady headed into M&T Bank, I said, “I heard it was supposed to snow today,” in a conversational tone, as if I was wondering if it would.

“I didn’t believe them,” she said.

“Well, those weather guys don’t always get it right,” I said.

A short time after I got back home I got into my vehicle to drive to Utica, NY. I wore my insulated sweatshirt, because my good winter coat was still wet. I put the hood up instead of looking for a dry hat. I foolishly forgot my gloves so hoped I could get away without brushing off my vehicle. I could.

My Trailblazer was set on “auto,” which is better than 2-wheel-drive but not as good as 4-wheel drive. I didn’t think I needed 4-wheel drive and, anyways, you’re not supposed to go over 45 m.p.h in 4-wheel drive. I headed for the highway. The streets in Herkimer were not very good, and people were driving surprisingly slow, and not pulling out in front of each other at the side streets. I was impressed.

Out on the highway, I felt I had best go slow myself. I could have left it in 4-wheel drive, because I did not go over 45 at all. There was a car behind me, following pretty close at first. I couldn’t worry about him. The last time I went faster than I wanted to because I was worried about the guy behind me, I spun out in a most terrifying fashion. That was on ice. At least this was just snow.

By the time I got to Schuyler, visibility was terrible. I questioned my decision to leave the house. Then I thought of the saying, “If you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes,” to which I often add, “or drive five miles.” I decided the visibility was really no worse than nighttime. I could see directly in front of me, just not much further.

As I got closer to North Utica, things improved. There was still lots of snow, but I could see further. Now all I had to worry about was traffic on Genessee Street and the fact that I did not know where on Genessee Street my destination was. I had a house number but knew I could not count on numbers being readily visible.

Well, as usual, I persevered. I only had to circle around three times, and in Utica circling around is fun. I enjoyed looking at the houses I drove by. I felt triumph when I reached my destination. Then frustration when I realized that where I had pulled in was in fact the driveway for the house next door. Then triumph once again as I noticed the parking lots adjoined.

Perhaps tomorrow I will write about what my destination was and what I did there. Happy Friday, everybody.

More Than a Few Flakes

It’s another Tired Tuesday and let me tell you I do not have time to be tired. Last Tuesday I typed in haste before going to get my hair cut. I excused lack of a real post on the grounds that I was studying my lines for a play I am in at Ilion Little Theatre, Busybody. Guess what I was doing today?

I am in haste again as well. This time I have to get to rehearsal at 6:30. However, rather than spending a couple hundred words dithering about that, I will attempt a brief description of a short walk I just took with my schnoodle, Tabby.

The weather report today had dire predictions for foul winter weather this evening. They started canceling various after-school activities early on. I just shook my head and said, “It’s not even precipitating yet!” I thought it would be an anti-climax. However, it was cold. I put on my warmest coat, hat, gloves and a scarf. I usually forget the scarf and get a cold face.

As we left the house I saw a few white flakes. Oh, how pretty. I thought, “Guess it is going to precipitate a little.” Oh, this was no problem. We had not gone ten feet when suddenly the snow was dumping down! There was a ton of it! It was like somebody dumped a giant bucket of snow, only it didn’t stop.

I laughed. I believe I’ve mentioned before that bad weather makes me laugh. I don’t know why, but I always say, “You can laugh or you can cry; might as well laugh.” Tabby stopped and looked at me. I thought perhaps she did not like being snowed on and wanted to go back home. Instead she wanted to cross the street. The walk was still on.

The air was cold. Then the wind picked up. That did not stop Tabby from wanting to stop and sniff several times. I was glad of my coat, but the scarf was not the miracle I had hoped for. I looked around for Christmas lights so at least my heart could feel warm.

When we got to a corner it seemed Tabby wanted to cross the street and go another block, but I suggested we turn. I thought one block would be good considering the cold and my time constraints. I knew a moment’s hesitation, thinking of my dog’s happiness and enjoyment. Then the wind picked up and I felt I had made the right decision.

Back home typing this in, I heard Adam Musyt on WKTV say the snow had started (I KNOW, Adam!); sleet and freezing rain will be coming (oh crap, probably in time for my drive home from the theatre). I must finish this post and change my clothes for rehearsal. And study my lines some more.