skirt in the snow

The snow storm definitely placed a road block (literally) in the rejuvenation process of my daily running. Today I looked out the window and saw piles of snow, slush, and ice gleaming in the sunlight. I also saw pieces of sidewalk and road peeking out from underneath all this stuff, and thought "there is hope for me and my run today". I leaped over patches of snow, jumped into puddles of slush and sprinted under scaffolding with melting snow. Crossing Broadway was rough, with loads of cars trying to speed around a car accident-splashing slush all over the unfortunate pedestrians. My skirt did not get one speck of dirt on it. :)

There are a few things to beware of when running in a skirt in the aftermath of a blizzard:

1. Large puddles of slush, you can only leap so far...
2. Skinny intense upperwestside chicks that SPRINT directly into you, expecting YOU (the slowpoke) to dodge THEM (the crazy).
3. Dogs. They are unpredictable.


The leftover snow is a very good obstacle course for strengthening mind-leg coordination. I do agree that pure white snow is much more beautiful than cement, but I know that without the cement we wouldn't be able to appreciate the snow.
Melt snow melt, I am ready for spring.

the skirt makes its debut

I ran five whole miles in the skirt today. Now...I don't run five miles on a regular basis, I run 3-4 miles- 5 days a week.
I think this skirt has super-powers. Somehow it didn't feel any different than pants, except maybe a feeling of extra material near my knees and fear of tripping while running up steep steps.
The fear was simply paranoia, because the only way I could trip in that skirt would be:
A. If I had to go up very very steep steps...like 2 feet high steps...no one in the right mind will "run" up steps like that.
B. If a small child swerves his bicycle directly in front of me.
C. If I lose my mind and despite extreme weather conditions go for a 9 mile run in central park.

Of course, the entire time I was overly conscious of the people looking at me and wondering what they were thinking...living in Harlem, I assumed that the usual characters would shout their normal high-spirited support: "run girl run" or "yeah baby" or "run an extra mile for me honey" -Either they are in hibernation because it is so darn cold, or...the skirt has super-powers.
Every time I passed some skinny intense upperwestside chick in her matching spandex and cute hat...I thought "You may think you are cuter than me but...I am running in a skirt."

So it was no big deal, and I actually quite enjoyed it. Maybe next week the skirt will use its super-powers one day to help me run SIX miles.

the skirt has arrived

For those of you who thought I couldn't do it...well...I am doing it.

Running in a skirt.

Technically I just received my first running skirt in the mail and only ran/frolicked around my small Manhattan bedroom for a distance of approximately .001 miles...but tonight officially marks the beginning of my relationship with "the running skirt". Why would I run in a skirt, you ask? Well, why do you run in pants? Seriously, why do people even run at all? No one says: "For a good time call...just kidding, don't call anyone...go for a run!" No one says that.

Sometimes I go running for a good time, and sometimes I go running just to fight with the road. I run because I am addicted. I have been addicted for ten years. Ever since my long runs with hormonal teenagers in the wild forests of Oregon, I have been captivated by running. (The sport in school is called "cross country" You don't have to "try out" for it (Thank G-d), and even people with a 20 minute mile can be on a school team.)

I run because the adrenaline rush and rhythmic breathing cannot be found anywhere else. Its therapeutic and relaxing, yet nerve-racking and painful, all at the same time. The spiritual experience of long- distance running is unexplainable.

Yet, why run in a skirt? And not just any skirt, one that falls below my knees? Because when I decide to do something, I do it. I accept it fully with every prospective challenge and triumph. Thus begins my journey towards the 2010 NYC Marathon, running in a skirt.