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The Anti-Idle Path in Munich
fighting the winter blues, with winter white
It’s snow time. Finally, I got off my rubbery gluts, dressed in my miss-matched winter armory and headed out for a run through Nature’s masterpiece. Snow is definitely the highlight of the winter season. Anything with a horizontal component is traced with snow. The Wind played its part as well, painted tree trucks as if they need white bellies to blend in with the strolling dogs who stop to sniff the occasional yellow snow sculpture.
My eyes fall absolutely in love with this landscape and it keeps me from noticing that I’m struggling to keep a good pace without blacking out. Part of me says if everyday stayed this wintery white and fresh, I’d never lock myself in my warm abode. But this Florida girl comes to her skinny senses and knows that nothing stays the same. The rains will come this weekend and make everything one salty, brown, icy mud puddle.
Hey that hasn’t happened yet and these meteorologist have been wrong around here thanks to this southern mountain range. In the meantime, I’ve developed a new technique to help me enjoy all this beauty. During this time of year my feet get all confused. They sweat but they aren’t hot. Then they get cold and then my misery begins. Before I left the house to start my health regimen, I stuck my cold, clammy feet in warm water, then towel dried them, followed by the hairdryer to remove all moisture. This may seem overkill, but frozen toes are the quickest way to send me home without collecting my prize.
But you know what? My feet started to sweat again!! I kept drying them with the towel but still I felt moisture on the back of my hand. So I gave up, but on thin moisture wicking socks and thicker running socks. It seemed to help because while I was out and about I didn’t feel cold toes despite running through the sometimes ankle deep snow.
All the while, fat crows were loitering, a man was fly fishing on a snowy concrete box culvert and nearly slipped, workers were clearing the fallen tree branches and mother’s opted to carry their babes close to their chest instead of pushing a buggy. All you could see was this little cap sticking out of their puffy jackets. In the middle of the day their are few runners or children running a muck so it was just me and the chilly world on the trail. peace.
Now it’s on to translating my Photovoltaic material, recovering my viola playing skills (painfully), and eating a 1/4 of Hendl bought off the Thursday street market.
