Change of pace

On Christmas Eve, winter finally arrived. Here in western Pennsylvania, that usually means that the sun goes away and ice pellets start falling from the sky. But sometimes the sun comes out, and there's enough snow to lace up an old pair of cross country spikes and go for a run without worrying about falling on my face.

Running in the winter is weird. It's the intermediary period between cross country and indoor track. I should be doing a lot of base work, but the nasty weather means a lack of motivation for long runs. And the schedule doesn't dictate much speed either. So I'll settle for slipping around on the road or the trails for a few miles each day, thinking about track season and trying to keep a tally of how many Christmas cookies I've eaten over the past week.

Today: maybe some snowshoeing and a bit of yoga.

home

Sometimes, in the rush and tumble of the holiday season, it's easy to forget how much I love this little corner of Pennsylvania. 

Where else can I spin down the road to a read a book next to a rushing waterfall, or step out of the house and jog less than 400 meters to a 140-mile river trail?

How many other places are surrounded by acres and acres of silent forest waiting to be unicycled?

Where else would my cat be so happy hanging out next to a milk crate and a broken heater?

And how many other places are only a short hike away from the site of George Washington's most embarrassing battle?

But of course I can't forget to mention the most important blessing of home - the food (and the wonderful lady who prepares it).

Not created by my mother, there's also the Christmastime cookie fort... designed by Montana and baked gluten-free so I could nibble at the extra scraps.  

It's nice to be back.

settling

Not so much has been going on in the past couple weeks.

Well, that's a lie. There's been a lot: paper-writing, studying, trying to use up the milk in the fridge before I had to vacate the campus for winter break. One more time, I've lived through it all.

A couple days ago I packed up all my things from Wooster and headed out of Ohio for the holidays. In the process, I managed to forget all my notes and books I was planning to use for research. C'est la vie. At least my little friend had an exciting adventure.

He spent the rest of the car ride cowering underneath my feet. Poor guy. It's a good thing I'll be home for a month, because I don't think I'll be able to wrestle him into another box for quite a while.

an open letter

Dear Movember Observers,

You had a good run. The mustache was funny. It made us giggle when we saw you trying to grow it out. It was even more hilarious when we didn't tell you that you had food stuck in it. But now that December's rolled around, your lipscarf is a little creepy. Time to goodbye to it, friends.

Love,
Women.