Today was my first official run after my half-marathon.
I gave my body a bit of a break for 2 weeks – mostly because my laziness kicked in – but also because I was nervous of risking injury after I pushed myself for that race. I did attempt a very short one a week after, but my left knee felt a little funny 4km in so I had to turn around.
My run today turned into an unexpectedly memorable little one: it started to snow not long after I stepped out my front door. Panic started to set in: do I keep going, or turn around and quit? But my mind was set on doing it, so I continued with my run. I love the snow anyway and this was a beautifully fresh snowfall. It wasn’t particularly cold (albeit a bit windy), and the snow didn’t really stay on the ground so that made it a bit safer. My only complaint was that I haven’t managed to get myself a pair of running gloves, so my hands were a bit red from the cold. There were moments where visibility was nearly zero, but then the snow would stop and the skies would clear up quickly.
The best thing I’ve realized running in my first snowfall is the rarity of being alone. No cars honking, no people chattering, no dogs barking, and no clomping sounds of other runners. It is so rare in my neighborhood that you can’t help but notice when it happens. But there I was, and the only sound I could hear were of my footsteps crunching through the snow and iced leaves.The moment was so magical that I took my headphones off, and just enjoyed the rest of my run.
Don’t you love it when a set of circumstances outside your control come together and turns it into something amazing?
I stopped here and there along the way, and took a few photos. I didn’t manage to capture the blizzard without it turning into a digital blurry mess, but that image will stay in my head forever. Can’t wait for more snow, so I could do this again!