That WAS a black hoodie until I got covered in snow like an asshole
I didn't jog tonight; instead I punished myself by walking an extra 1/2 mile. There are two reasons I didn't jog: the first is that I ate and drank like shit today. I started off with beer and an omelette at the inaugural Icrontic Co-Working event, and ended the night in a bar with a friend from out of town, so yeah, my body was rejecting physical effort. Reason two is that it is SNOWING LIKE ****ING ASSHOLES out there, the ground is icy as shit, and I would have died. I nearly slipped three times just waddling around like the penguin that I am.
Anyways, I started off bitching and moaning about the weather. Of course it's April, of course it was in the upper 60's a week or two ago, and of course, this being Michigan, it's going to snow 6 inches and it's 31 degrees out right now.
I was |-| THIS close to bailing. But I hate myself enough that I wanted to punish myself by going out in this shitstorm. Words will never be able to convey how much I tried to talk myself out of going. If you are fat and hate exercise, you may begin to understand where I'm coming from. I was seething pissed by the time I finally got my hoodie on and walked out the door, cursing.
I stormed out, and the wind and giant wet snowflakes were blowing directly into my face. I pulled my hood tighter, put my head down and started marching.
After a half mile or so, I realized something: This may be the last snowstorm I see for months. The ground was covered in a pristine layer of white. The kind of quiet that only comes when the world is covered in snow descended. This being Asshole O'Clock on a sunday night, there was not a car in sight. My Buddhist teachings kicked in and said "Look around you. It's beautiful. When you are doing this 3 months from now and it's 97 degrees and pouring rain and lightning out, you'll be begging for this." I slowed down, watched snowflakes swirl and dance, and tried to be present in each breath.
I was still in agony; the shitty food and beer I ate today was paying me back. My legs burned and ached with each step, and the only thing that drove me on was the fact that each step brought me closer to home, and out of the cold and wet.
I started having visions of snowbunnies. I always had a soft place in my heart for nordic goddesses and by the time I got done envisioning gorgeous women in furry hats and sexy boots frolicking in the snow, I was almost home.
If that's what it takes to keep my ass moving, so be it.
One last thing:
About a mile in, I stopped and bent down. I wrote two words into the snow on the sidewalk with my finger:
**** yes, they did.