First of all my car got stuck in the parking lot. They hadn't plowed yet and there were cars skidding everywhere, dogs were having a hard time getting through it and there were snow banks preventing traveling in the usual lanes. I should have left then. But I didn't.
I started running on the area that everyone travels on. It wasn't horrible there. Then, about 25 feet onto the trail, it got bad. I was slipping and sliding and with any given step, I had no idea how far I would sink in. I was about a half a mile in before I just had it and tried to walk. I was as out of breath as I'd ever been and I was angry. I could have turned around, but I figured it couldn't possibly be as bad going forward to I plugged on figuring I'd loop back at my first chance, which was only three quarters of a mile.
Although there were spots where the snow was non existent due to the gusts we'd had, most of the rest of the trail was treacherous. It was as if I were in a nightmare, running and running and running and going nowhere. Just about everyone else was walking, or had cross country skis or snow shoes. I should have realized.
I made it back to the car, where my husband was waiting and I think every other word was a curse. I had managed to pull my achilles tendon in the process. The silver lining to the day was that my husband, who was taking photos, got this shot of me.
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