For the first time in a long time, it was our daughter who woke up the family this morning. Usually it is our son, the early bird, who announces the numbers displayed on my husband's alarm clock and insists that it is time for us to wake-up - even if the first digit is a 5, or even on occasion a dreaded 4. Much to my surprise, the numbers told me it was eight-zero-zero (as Ethan would read), about an hour later than Ethan EVER lets us sleep! Of course, he was up a few times over the course of the night, but I finally convinced him to settle in and rest by creating a "cozy bed" for him on the floor at the foot of our bed. There is something magical about that space for him. He slept there peacefully from four until eight (if you leave out the incident where our dog thought the space looked pretty cozy, too, and layed ON TOP of Ethan, resulting in Ethan shouting out "Bad Albus! No, no, no! This is MY bed!").
Since we were so late in prying ourselves from the bed, attending church was out of the question for us. We go to the early Mass only, as Ethan just doesn't have the right balance of energy, calm and curiosity for the later Mass. Though David and I decided last night that we'd both like to get in a run today, it just wasn't looking good. Then the phone rang. A phone call at 8:15 AM isn't always the most welcome, but this was by far the best call we've received before 9AM. My mom wanted to deliver a plate of her homemade cookies on her way to her church (of course, Mom, bring them right over!) and then suggested that she take Ethan and Megan to the service with her so they could enjoy watching my dad play with their church band (of course, Mom, I can have them ready whenever you'd like and I'd even be happy to put little Megs in a dress!). She suggested that David and I head out for some breakfast (knowning that sleeping in was a RARE thing and breakfast on our own is even more rare!) together while they were all at church.
We kicked around the idea of a breakfast outing for abut 2 minutes. We immediately knew that this was a chance for us to enjoy a run together outside and that it would be great, even if it was snowing. So, we got the kids fed and dressed, buckled them into their carseats in my mom's car and didn't look back to watch them pull out of the driveway. We were going for a run - together!
Our dog, Albus, loves to run, too. As we got dressed for the run, he immediately recognized the signs - clothes from the bottom drawers, white socks, running shoes . . . with each item his tail wagged faster and his eyes darted between each of our faces to see which of us would acknowledge that he was invited for the event. His running is the same style as David's - full speed ahead. It helps that Albus has four legs and David's legs are LONG. This speed is not my favorite, so Albus doesn't often get to join me when I run. BUT since David would be going, he received the much anticipated nod that he could come, too.
So, there we were, the three of us, running the hills of Duvall at 9AM. While the treadmill has kept my legs strong, it does have the drawback of keeping my lungs from getting the same experience that hills and cold air provide outside. Even with the few walk breaks I requested, it was a good morning to run. We waved good morning to our neighbor has he strung their outdoor Christmas lights - a festive picture, if not the ideal conditions he would choose for such a chore. The wind changed direction with each of our turns, encouraging the snowflakes to fly into our faces and stick on our eyelashes. I can't remember the last time we went for a run in the snow, which means it has probably been a few years. We'll definitely do it again . . . and maybe even give it a try with the kids in the double jogger, if need be.
Thanks, Mom, for sharing your morning with us all. We hope running around with the kids was as satisfing as our run around Duvall!
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Running in the snow? That is some serious dedication! Sounds like an invigorating morning. I think if I keep reading your stories I just might be inspired to take up running myself.
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