The Cold and the Hot of It



The cold was yesterday, when many Minis converged on the parking lot at the Mt. Bachelor ski lodge for a lively autocross race. The only problem? Merely a summertime blizzard. As volunteer course marshals, Z and I froze. People were skiing. Of course we hadn't brought any cold-weather clothing, and our jeans were soon soaked, along with our feet, brains, and every other part of us. Funny thing is, it was almost fun. Almost.


The hot was this morning, when I went for an incredibly lovely run along the Deschutes River under a cloudless sky.

The trail was pristine, and I didn't see another soul. All thoughts of my achey body were driven out by this magical trail. We're heading back home tomorrow (with a short stop in Arcata), and I know I'll have to decide how to deal with this latest infirmity. But for today, my running self is at peace.

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