I'm standing at the front window watching frozen gack fall from the sky and needing a little bit of motivation. In my life, in my mind, in my heart it's really not that hard to find.
It's right here in the photo. When the weather is nasty and I just don't want to go out, I remember this picture. It reminds me that my father fought a war in two feet of snow. You were more likely to die from frostbite and hypothermia than from a bullet or the hunk of metal that almost killed dad.
The rest of his life I rarely heard complaints from him about snow or cold or sleet. He'd had it much worse.
So on those days when it's bad, the run still gets done, maybe, more than anything, as a way to honor the the old dog face.*
Finished the run soaking wet and cold and a little blue in the lips but warmed by his memory....
*dog face was a WWII term for infantry
