barefoot in winter
Monday, February 6 It’s been a weird winter here, weather wise. I’ve resisted blogging about it – carrying on about how awful things are because we haven’t gotten the snow we play in and our economy partly depends upon here in southwest Montana – in hopes that things would change.
But winter starts in November here, and November through February are generally hardcore winter months that spill over to the end of March, which then gives way to mud and brown in April. If you don’t live here because you love to ski, snowmobile, sled or otherwise enjoy the snow, well, you at least expect it and know that it will be served up with a few stretches of humbling sub-zero daytime temps.
Not this year.
We’ve had RAIN, several times this season. Seeing rain here in January is sort of like I envision folks in southern Florida might react to getting snow: Hey honey – c’mon outside and get a look at this! I think it’s SNOWING, just like on TV…
Our in-town Nordic skiing is a patchy and treacherous ice sheet. The ski resorts are making do with a thin, rock-exposing white blanket that has certainly cost them business.
In my own house, my boys, who are usually building jumps and making videos up at the ski resort this time of year, have been unenthusiastic. For me, my lunch breaks on the Nordic ski trails have turned into lame little jogs. It’s hard not to be glum and a little fatalistic about it all.
Anyway, Shawn, our friend Erik and I decided to make the best of it by signing up for a trail race down on Antelope Island (on Utah’s Great Salt Lake) at the end of March. Erik is running 30 miles, and Shawn and I signed up for 15 miles. Just dumb enough to possibly be fun.
In honor of the event, I’m springing for new trail running shoes after wearing my old pair for years, and trying in vain to get the stench out of them. Henk the Cat -- SHAWN’s CAT -- peed on them.
Five times.
After each and every soaking, Shawn has noted my annoyance and offered to wash them in a magical-cat-pee-odor-eliminating-shampoo. When he’s done, he presents them to me: “See? Good as new,” he says proudly.
Then I sniff, and try not to pass out.
“What?” he says, bringing the shoes to his face to smell. “They’re fine. Absolutely FINE. Nothing wrong with these shoes.”
No siree.
If I don’t hide the shoes, then the cat finds them and pees on them again. Once Shawn patiently explained to me that the situation was actually my own fault, because my body produces foul odors – an ammonia-like foot odor that is very confusing to Henk the Cat and causes him to mistake my shoes for a litter box.
Well, my goodness.
I guess I owe Henk an apology.
Anyway, FaveAuntie sent me the link to the video above on Shit Barefoot Runner’s Say. It’s amusing, especially as it seems the barefoot running craze – inspired by Christopher McDougall’s book, Born to Run – is going on all over the U.S. (Many of the video references are directly related to the book and the subculture it has inspired. Even if you aren’t a runner, the book is interesting, entertaining and worth reading.) There’s a whole series of “shit people say” videos on YouTube. If you’re into yoga, that one’s funny as well.
In any case, I’m probably not going minimalist with my running shoe purchase since I'd strap pillows to my feet if I thought I could run that way, and I’m hiding them from Henk so he doesn’t have to suffer any more confusing episodes.
END NOTE: I’m going to try something new. Every now and then I’m taking a week off of blogging and using that time to write something to submit for publication. (Please banish any images of me lying on the couch with the TV clicker and eating snacks, and instead envision me HARD AT WORK.) I want to write some divorce-and-kids-related stuff. I’ll let you know how it goes, and see you back here on the 13th or 16th.








