Skiers are Assholes

Workout: 4 miles jogged on Powerline, followed by 3 walked

Powerline highway, more like. The people were out in droves today. More accurately, the cross country skiers were out in droves. It. was. SO. ANNOYING. I saw one other person on foot, and dozens and dozens of skiers. I don't understand why they're so mean-only two or three even acknowledged my presence, despite the fact that I had to stop and move over to the side of the path what felt like EVERY THIRTY SECONDS. Jesus. One of the skiers who wasn't too self-absorbed to notice me said "Oh, you forgot your skis!' He got that right. Maybe then I'd be worthy.

I think cross country skiers are similar to NYC bikers (and possibly bikers all over, although I wouldn't know)-they're (somewhat unfairly) hated by everyone, which gives them this persecuted attitude that makes them feel entitled to be even bigger assholes. I may be the only person who actually hates skiers, but there's something similar going on. Funny, because I love cross country skiing! I'll likely be one of those skiers soon. I like to think I won't be so awful, but who knows. Okay, rant done. I'll just end by saying that cross country skiers need an attitude adjustment. That's all.

So, my run! It was splendid, but hard as hell. Apparently running in snow is approximately one billion times harder than running on regular ground. They must have gotten more snow up there since Wednesday, because my feet were sinking down pretty far. I imagine it's similar to running on a beach, but way harder because that sounds more impressive. Initially, it wasn't a big deal because the damn skiers had packed it down a fair amount, but as I got farther out things got rough.

Again with the scaling, garmin! You make me look like a wimp. There's actually a 300-foot gainbetween mile 1 and 3.5. Not huge, but noticeable.

I'm really glad to see the elevation chart, because the last mile or so before I turned around was HARD. My heart was racing, I could hardly breathe, and my legs sort of felt like they were about to fall off. This was the only time those skiers came in handy, because I had an excuse to move over and stop for a couple of seconds. It was rough. I couldn't tell it was slightly uphill, though, until I turned around and started cruising back. I felt like I was flying, when really I was just not running 11:00 miles. It didn't last long, unfortunately, because I hit four miles and Hal made me stop. But hey, uphill is good for you! Uphill combined with deep-ish snow, even better! Four miles usually wouldn't be anywhere near enough to tire me out, but I was pretty happy I was done this time. It left me three miles to enjoy the scenery.

Slow, slow miles. Mile 3 was rough.

I was rockin' my softstars, which did reasonably well. I didn't have any issues with traction or anything, only snow drifts.

A beautiful outing! I'm thinking I might need to find somewhere new to run, though, because those skiers are seriously cramping my style.