Mother Nature throws a softball

Mother Nature called a cease fire on her wintery wrath today. 

It was one of those glorious March days when she decided to release her icy grip and give us all a teaser of the spring to come. As though she were rewarding us for so bravely surviving the 52.1 inches of snow that fell in Chicago from Dec. 1 to Feb. 29 (thank you, National Weather Service!) Temps hit the mid to upper 50s, the sun sparkled overhead, and many of the three foot drifts of dirty, murky snow melted into dirty, murky streams and ponds on the sidewalk. Being outside was as glorious as watching the sunset over the mountains, dancing in the rain or marveling at the Nothern Lights on a crisp, clear Anchorage night - something that was almost better experienced in soft focus. 

Needless to say, with a four-mile training trek at that highly quantifiable pace of "moderate" before me, I had a choice: Walk inside on the treadmill or brave the ponds and occasional shaded black ice to get in the miles. When I saw the anxious doggy grin and happy tail on Jack, I couldn't leave him behind. 

So I cheated, in a way. 

Here's the deal: A mile is a mile no matter how fast you walk it. But when you're attached via five feet of nylon to 75 pounds of compressed muscle and urine, walking at any speed other than "amble" is wishful thinking. Our rhythm turned into this - go 15 to 50 feet at a good 3 mph clip, stop, sniff around for at least 15 seconds, lift leg, repeat. And repeat. And repeat. For two miles straight. 

So I split the difference - taking the breast cancer dog for half the walk, then banging out 2.5 miles (I felt bad) at a more intense pace and incline on the treadmill before dinner. Maybe not the most efficient way of doing things, but given how happy, and tired, this pooch is tonight, it was definitely worth the effort. 

Here's wishing you happiness, love and good health, 

Regan