"Smoke and wind and fire are all things you can feel but can't touch. Memories and dreams are like that too. They're what this world is made up of. There's really only a very short time that we get hair and teeth and put on red cloth and have bones and skin and look out eyes. Not for long. Some folks longer than others. If you're lucky, you'll get to be the one who tells the story: how the eyes have seen, the hair has blown, the caress the skin has felt, how the bones have ached.
"What the human heart is like, " he said.
"How the devil called and we did not answer.
"How we answered."

from The Man Who Fell In Love With The Moon

Friday, April 13, 2012

Running With Scissors, Again.

In Seattle, except for the months of August and September when it's mostly nice, if it's sunny there's a manic energy to GET OUT!  GET SOMETHING DONE!  YEAH!  LET'S GO!  REI FIRST AND THEN, THE TRAILS!  or at least LET'S JUST DRIVE AND SIT IN TRAFFIC!!

Just kidding.  It isn't really that bad.  But it feels like it.  Today, the skies parted early, and though a north wind has been keeping temperatures cooler than it looks, it has been glorious.  We say sometimes, "if Seattle were like this more often we'd stay".  Or my favorite, "Seattle is like being in an abusive relationship.  Long stretches of neglect and downright torture interspersed with moments of sublimity."  I've been living here off and on for, jeez, seven years now.  I've been coming here for almost twenty-five.  There are so many things that make this place first-rate in terms of places to live if you're a trail runner.  Big mountains relatively close, rather mild winters, a strong community of like-minded weirdos, an REI every seventeen miles, a really good beer every three, and really, really good coffee every other block (and not Starbuck's either who, with no disrespect, brews coffee from charcoal).  Multitudes of restaurants, access to unusual and wonderful ingredients if you're the cooking type, and a general hippie-holier-than-thou mentality that actually works pretty well.  But goddamn the weather!  When a sunny day makes you verklempt with the thought of the coming week of overcast, you know shit's out of whack.  There's no sun here.  This is an example of hyperbole.  In coming blog posts you'll encounter a lot of hyperbole.   There's sun.  I'm sure there's someone out there who will parade out a sexy stat from some climate center somewhere touting our perfect balance of cloudcover and blue sky.  Good on ya.

For comparison Boulder gets 300 sunny days.  Seattle gets 60.  I know that's true cause I Googled it and Wiki answered.

Anyway, I ran some miles early this morning and then I drove The Truth out to Tiger and hiked up to T3.  Not all the way, but mostly.  When I got to 2300' I stopped to tie my shoe and my fingers wouldn't work.  Couldn't tell if it was from the air temps (low 30s and I was in a t-shirt) or from dehydration (had not had any liquid other than a cup o' coffee).  Then I tried to text and that was just funny-stupid.  Figured it was safer to turn around.  So I did.  2.5 hours.


Pretty little guy...


View on the mountain this morning...



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