snow, snow go away

I fear that winter is going to hold on tooth-and-nail and will sadistically morph into next winter, skipping spring, summer, and fall altogether. The locals warned us that the winters are long here in Breckenridge. We know that the geography guarantees as much. And we know that this was considered a mild winter by Breckenridge standards. But seriously, please melt already.

Adrienne and I both made it to mid-March in good spirits, but then I think we reached our tipping point. For me, I can’t overstate how tired I am of running through snow. I can’t remember what it’s like to run without the threat of frozen water bottles, frozen eyelashes, or post-holing (breaking through the uppercrust of snow and sinking down to my knees or hips). Despite all the cold and snowy miles I logged this winter, it wasn’t until the temperatures started to warm up a bit and the dirt started winking at me from beneath the snow covered trails that I suddenly became incredibly impatient for it all to melt away. And naively, I thought it had. In just the last week and a half the several feet of snow on our lawn completely melted. The snow covering the parks where June and Jolee so desperately want to play went away as well. With temperatures in the upper 50s, I thought we had survived winter and lived to tell about it. But alas, I was so pathetically wrong. Starting late Thursday night and continuing through this morning, the snow fell without pause. We now have a fresh foot of snow. I had actually tucked our heavy mittens, hats, and snow boots into the depths of our closet, I nearly removed the screws from my running shoes, and I was just about to put the shovels away until fall. And then this.

We have a bear statue outside that we’ve been using to gauge when spring will arrive. For most of the winter, he was completely buried. Then in late March, his nose emerged…

We backtracked a bit in early April…

But in the last few weeks we resumed our march towards spring…

The snow on the bear and the grass had completely melted—until today…

I have run outdoors through the entire winter. I’m happy to report that I’ve logged precisely zero miles on the treadmill since moving here. Amazingly, today, April 24th, over a month into spring, presented the toughest running conditions so far. In fact, what started as a 16 mile run turned into a 4 mile jog interspersed with 7 miles of a hiking. Once I reached the Sally Barber Mine trailhead three miles in, the running was all but over. The Sally Barber Mine Trail steadily rises for roughly a mile and a half to the mine ruins at an elevation of 10,695 feet. Even through the winter, it’s very runnable. Not today. Despite not starting my ascent until nearly 10am, not a single track had been laid on the trail. This is a very popular trail for snowshoers and x-country skiers, so I expected a path to have already been cut for me. I’ll spare you the details, but if I’m running at a good pace I usually reach the mine ruins 45 minutes into my run and reach the Barney Ford trailhead in 58 minutes; today I reached those landmarks at 1:14 and 1:44 into the run. And for the entire 11 mile loop, I typically finish around 1:45; today I crossed the finish line at 2:44. Brutal. I had planned on adding five miles by heading up Bald Mountain on a trail called Nightmare on Baldy that ascends from the Sally Barber Mine ruins, but I didn’t feel like “running" for what would have been well over four hours today; I simply skipped it.

So pray my brothers and sisters that the snow melts by early September, because that’s when it started snowing here this past fall.