Back at the Beach?

Was I transported? Maybe to Jamaica?

I've never been to Jamaica but I've seen the advertisements for its white sand beaches.

And my feet felt like they might be stuck in some of that soft sand.

Slipping, sliding, arms gyrating to keep balance.

And my poor abs: they were not getting the rest usually alloted to them!

After a bit, my toes announced that we were not, in fact, in Jamaica.

Unless Jamaica has changed latitudes drastically.

Wet and starting to tingle, these poor toes were a motivation to keep going, however much I wanted to slow down and walk.

Interesting how little ground I actually traversed in a 45-minute out and back. I didn't get nearly as far as I usually would, even going a fairly slow pace. Would I have gone faster walking?

Likely not but the comparison is not too far off the mark.

The effort put into this run seemed significantly greater than the effort I've been putting into my other mini-runs, as I like to call them now.

Seems strange that these will be my regular runs for the forseeable future.

Maybe there will be a lot of snow. That way, I can claim I'm being careful because of the ice.

And I won't have to downgrade myself to the unthinkable:

A jogger