This is not my actual mailbox. As you can see, it's more of a paper box at the end of my driveway. I don't get the paper. I know everything I need to know. I'm convinced that everything that happens has already happened before. And I have tons of history books in my nice, warm house. Why rebuy old news repackaged in a trendy ink print package and full of ads? Only the names and faces have changed...
So I will not shovel out the front of this paper box. Nature will need to do its thing to free it from it's cold tomb.
I took this picture to illustrate what I'm up against for this weekend's 15 mile long run. It is more than others. But not as much as some. I have completed every run on my February training plan except one. I will not be deterred by the heaping mounds of creeping, cold death.
Fortunately, my 15 mile long run has options. And "options" is sometimes referred to as a "treadmill."
So, neither snow nor rain not heat nor gloom will keep me from accomplishing my appointed course.
Winter, you may now Fuck Off.