On a side note - why are the words to describe that frost so mockable? The two choices that I'm aware of are "flocked" and "hoar frost." Go ahead, use either one in a sentence. For 45 years old, I sure can regress quickly into adolescence.
|Flocked and/or hoar-frosted trees in my neighborhood|
Anywhoo, getting to the studio yesterday was pretty exciting what with the incredibly dense fog and all. A good portion of my drive to the studio is through bucolic eastern Minnesota countryside. There were times I wasn't able to see too far in front of me and cars would just appear and disappear. It was kind of unsettling really. And I don't know about you, but on foggy mornings (oh, let's be honest, pretty much all the time) I like to talk to other drivers on the road. I ask them questions: "Do you see me, dipshit?? I'm right next to you!" and "Really?? with alllllllll the space behind me you have cut in FRONT of me here to make your exit??" I comment on their driving practices: "Using a signal to indicate you are turning really is socially acceptable behavior. You won't be punished for doing it." I offer constructive criticism: "Maybe if you weren't texting AND smoking a cigarette you'd be better able to stay in your own f-ing lane!!"
What was it George Carlin used to say? Something like, "Everyone driving faster than you is a maniac and everyone driving slower than you is an idiot." The husband and I joke about crabby people our age being young curmudgeons. (I believe the proper pronunciation is "yunker-mudjun") A true curmudgeon has to be something like 80 years old, right? So I'm not quite there yet, but when I do get there, I'll be an expert.
What was my point? Oh yeah, fog, and running in it. So I was on my way to the studio for my marathon group and saw this person running along the side of the road and thought, "Man, that girl is CRAZY to be running out here in the fog!" even though, DUH, I was on my way to meet up with a bunch of women who were going to be doing just that. Forty-five minutes later there we were, happily running on a gorgeous yet foggy winter morning. And perhaps it's runner's mentality, but I felt pretty safe. We were very vigilant watching for cars and staying on the side of the road facing traffic and I never felt like I was at risk. If that's a skewed sense of reality, so be it, I'm embracing that way of thinking. Because the way I see it, it's that skewed sense of reality that's also letting me think I can run a marathon.
Two mile recovery run today. How cool is it to be able to say, "Two miles?? That's nothing!" And mean it!