Holing up at home through a blizzard here in Iowa has got me thinking about my college days. Here's the story of my all-time favorite run:
Back in February 2011 Snowpocalypse hit Chicagoland. I don't remember how much snow we got anymore, but it was enough to shut Trinity Christian College down the next day. Tuesday afternoon the snow was falling hard, so hard that my coach canceled track practice. (Pretty sure this storm was the only time practice was canceled in my career.) But that year I was living with my teammates, my best friends, my boys, and we couldn't pass up the adventure of running in this blizzard. So Clark, Kunz, Kyle, Lindy, and myself laced up our shoes and went out. As we hit the parking lot, Joey, our assistant coach and former captain pulled in, jumped out of his car, and joined us. The beginning of the run was not the kind of adventure we were hoping for. The wind was pelting us with snow and we were crawling alongside traffic on the side of some roads. But then we hit our target: a golf course tucked into the suburban neighborhoods. We dashed through the snow and circled around a flag. There was a lot of yelling, some sort of Braveheart-type speech was made, and then we fanned out to sprint across the golf course, screaming and celebrating. Suddenly Lindy disappeared, swallowed up by the snow after stumbling into a hidden sand trap. He popped up to the roar of our laughter. At the end of the golf course we entered a park and looped around Pleasure Lake before taking a back way home to Trinity. All told we put in 9 miles that day. It was slow. It was dangerous. We had quite a few running adventures in college, but running was never as fun as it was that day. Thanks, Snowpocalypse.
Grace and peace,
BMH
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