All was well until about mile 3. That's when the hardened slush caked the sidewalk. Some of you are thinking, "Well, why didn't you just run around the slush?" I would've loved that option, believe me. In fact, here were my options:
- Turn around. I determined that I was committed and I wasn't Nancying out on this one (no offense to any readers named Nancy)
- Veer to the right. Nope. More snow and the neighbors wouldn't like it. I half-expected an old guy in a rocking chair and a shotgun yelling, "Geet offa mah land!"
- Veer to the left. Not crazy about running on one of the busiest thoroughfares in the city. I don't need to get smacked by a Chrysler, thank you very much.
- Plod ahead and pray to God I don't twist an ankle.
As I ran, I think I came up with some future posts if nothing with any depth and/or substance comes to me, so stay tuned. I'm sure you're going to be refreshing this page every 30 seconds or so to see what I've come up with.