Winter is my least favorite season of the year. Curiously I chose partners in both the human and canine variety who live for snow. Having Sam and Nikki help, but after six years of running through sub-zero temps, moving back to Seattle meant excitement for snow-free trails and capris (my favorite running attire) all season long. But after we moved, a strange thing happened: I missed winter almost more than anything else. There I was smugly minding my own business in the days leading up to the typical snow time, looking forward to week after week of trail runs, when Mazama got the winter's first dump. I couldn't believe how much not having to shovel snow, wear a million layers, and be perpetually cold, affected my sense of time and overall enjoyment of the season; my snow-loving family rubbed off on me more than I knew. I can compartmentalize with the best of them, so the next year was better, but now that we're back, can't wait for the white stuff: just like the rest of my family.
There's a small loop that some wonderful people are keeping prepped for Nordic skiing, but there are only so many times I can ski the same one kilometer lollipop loop (never mind the fact that I am VASTLY out of ski shape), so after a quick skate today, Nikki and I took off to check out the adjacent meadow. Despite no views, we got a good taste of the winter ahead.