If the pictures above were of myself after a trail run, I would consider it normal. I expect to get wet and muddy when I’m running through a forest on a loosely-marked trail.
But these pictures are not post-trail run; they are from a run around suburban Long Island.
How did I get so dirty?
It all began when I looked out the window and saw it was beginning to snow. Great, I thought, that should make my run more enjoyable. A few minutes later I was all dressed, so I tied my shoes and headed into the snow for a five mile run.
The snow had somewhat increased in intensity since I had glanced out the window, and it was blinding me. Every time I looked up a snowflake flew into my eye, and all I could think about while this was happening was the very pointy structure of snowflakes and the damage it was doing to my eyeballs.
I devised a system where I was always looking either straight down or completely to one side, so my eyes were never exposed to the snow.
Perhaps this system influenced my field of vision. I was running by a school when I saw a student in front of me and decided to go around him instead of making him move; there looked to be enough room to pass him. I began to turn to the right, when suddenly I lost my footing on a muddy patch and flopped right into the mud in front of a few dozen highly amused children.
The next three miles I was convinced I was entirely caked in mud, and that everyone was staring at me as though I was crazy. Well, the mud stains weren’t as bad as I had imagined, but I’m sure people still thought I was crazy. I was, after all, running through a snowstorm in shorts.