The other morning I awoke to a frightening sight. Winter had arrived in the middle of the night, and with a thick blanket of soft wet snow covering everything in sight, the thought of a mid-week long run seemed both treacherous and daunting. Bundled up in layer upon layer of warm clothes, I laced up my winter treads (thanks Saucony for the crampon"esque" running boots) and away I went. Dodging snowplows and weaving through snowflakes, I was able to successfully complete my adventure. But as I returned home, back to the warmth and serene climate of the house, the troubling afterthought entered my head- winter has arrived. This will be my world for the next month before I escape to warmer weather. My shoulders dropped in dread. Luckily, after a warm shower and some food in the belly, I realized this isn't the case. Eventually the snow ceased, compacted, and returned to an acceptable level. The weather warmed (slightly) and things have returned to a adequate winter training climate. But the storm made me fearful of what lies ahead and sent me off in a flutter to figure out my winter escape plans. Hopefully the worse of the weather will hold off until after the new year, and until after I have already left for somewhere warm.