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.