Surprise, surprise. Snow in mid-October. I woke up this morning to let the dog out, and saw about half an inch of snow on the ground. Icy snow. Crunchy. The dog was not happy.

Seemed like a perfect excuse not to run today.

Three hours later, it was all gone. No snow, no ice, just a lonely snowman in the park sitting on top of brown grass, right where the neighbor children built him.

So I put on my shoes, and went.

It wasn’t such a big deal, actually. I did the hill route, so I had to stop a few times, but all in all, a good 40 minute run. Or plod, as I like to refer to my gait. I’m more of a Clydesdale than a race horse, really.

And the sky was amazing. Huge, fluffy clouds so close it seemed like my heavy breathing could have pushed them back towards the mountains.

Loretta Lynn belted out “High, on a mountain top,” and the Bee Gees sang “Stayin’ Alive, Stayin’ Alive.” I appreciated their sincere energy and repeated attempts at keeping me chugging along. Not an easy task, to be sure.

I felt much better when I got home. Relaxed, with a few endorphins kicking in. I almost did some sit-ups. Almost, but not quite.

I need to remember that happy after-run feeling for tomorrow. Wish I could bottle it and drink it every morning after my coffee.