fun: The Day I Asked to Run in a Blizzard

In all the bustle of our last week, my husband and I somehow neglected to pay any careful attention to the weather.  I had only glanced at the forecast and knew that it was going to start snowing Saturday night and continue on to Monday, which I told him on the way to church.  We had already woken up to a winter wonderland, taken ten minutes to brush snow off the car, and crawled to church, taking fifteen extra minutes, so I thought I might take another glance at the weather on my phone just in case.  Blizzard warning!  Winter weather advisory, possible lake flood warning, hazardous weather outlook.  I quickly told Ken and he exclaimed "We're having a blizzard and you didn't tell me?!"

We made it safely to church, though the snow had accumulated in the parking lot so rapidly that our car was stuck by the time we came back to it.  Ken took out our new shovel- the one that I thought was such a ridiculous purchase- and went to work.  It wouldn't budge until a random, very kind guy came up to help us push: both pushed while I gunned our car as fast as it would go and eventually it drifted over the snowy parking spot into a location with enough traction.  Thanking him, we drove home.  On the way home, Ken half joked about running in the blizzard conditions, which oddly sounded fun in an adventurous, but mostly controlled way (running around the neighborhood wouldn't exactly be a recipe for disaster).  So I asked if I could go as well and we left it open.  By this point, the thickly blanketed gray sky was starting to pick up; the constant Chicago wind was growing.

To park our car once home, we had to shovel out a spot, quickly tiring ourselves out.  We mostly stayed inside for the afternoon, though Gabriel needed a walk around the block and Ken wanted to go see Lake Michigan after that, which all three of us experienced.  I was wearing my full parka, but the wind was so strong that it kept whipping my hood off, and when I looked too closely at the water, a solid spray of ice chunks coated my back.  Ken's glasses were fogging up so much he could barely see and Gabriel was quickly developing an ice beard, while swimming through the snow banks.  It seemed like running was out... and also the Super Bowl party some friends were having.

Now, I was promised socializing, food, beer, and a chance to see two ten month old kittens, but all in the name of football during a blizzard?!  Driving our car again was out for the rest of the day, so I just assumed that meant that we would be staying home, all warm and cozy, drinking hot cocoa.

Nope.  This was the day that Ken decided we should finally try out the public transit.

Walking to the train was an ordeal itself as the snow was at least a foot deep, in mainly unplowed areas.  "Remind me why we are doing this- for a football game?" I sarcastically questioned Ken as we walked in the dark.  When we arrived at the station, there were already delays.  The attendant told us that a train was approaching so we had to leave the warm entrance and go up to the platform, snow swirling all around us as we waited.  Approaching was an overstatement; we waited longer than the usual maximum wait time.  We finally made it on, then had to make a transfer to another route, another wait.  This time, it really was a long wait and the wind was ripping by, turning my very well insulated toes icy.  Ken and I hopped around trying to keep warm.  A train arrived, on the wrong side, so everyone had to scramble up the platform and over to the other side, sandwiching ourselves into the car, glad for the warmth and escape from the wind.  The total trip took four to five times the expected time.  I told my husband I was not judging public transit by this ride alone, but it was not a joyride just the same.

Were we there yet?  No, of course there was another trek through snow and the height of the blizzard conditions.  We looked at the map, took a deep breath, and went out into the storm again.  We were really having difficulty as the wind was so strong it would stop us in our tracks.  I was gripping my parka hood with both hands, staring down at my feet, only seeing a few feet ahead of me at best; Ken's hands were painfully hurting since he wore his thin gloves by mistake.  The wind kept howling out and we would huddle together, as I would yell and nervously laugh.  We kept trudging on, looking for the end of the street, the wind maddeningly becoming even louder, and we weren't finding it.

We had gone the wrong way!  We were heading straight for Lake Michigan!  Ugh!

Ken grabbed my hand, hurrying me on, going back the way we had just come.  By this point we were both freezing, so what did I decide to do?  I started jogging and Ken followed: here was that run we had talked about earlier that day.  We were running really awkwardly, both wearing snow boots, but we started making better time and slowly started to warm up.  In another ten minutes we found the house where the Super Bowl party was being held and barged in, probably looking like snow beasts.

We both chugged hot cocoa like there was no tomorrow and I forgot all of my carb restrictions.  It was daunting knowing that we would have to do it all over to go home in a couple hours, but we managed to have fun.  I even got my cat fix, playing with the adorable gray kittens.

The Super Bowl was over around ten and for once I was sad to see a football game end.  This time going back it seemed more promising: we had already done it once, the wind had died down some, it was no longer snowing, and we had a third traveling companion who actually knew where he was going and what he was doing (unlike the two of us).  We quickly made it to the station and a train arrived immediately.  Yes!  We left the first train and walked over to the connection, but there were still power problems with the CTA so the train's arrival was ambiguous.  Ken's coworker said we could probably walk the distance home and beat the train, so once more we sucked it up and agreed.  He said it was like a twenty-five minute walk so it should be easy, right?

We left the station, walked a block, ready to turn onto our route.  Wrong- it had grown up to two feet of snow in most places, at times up to my hip!  "Why can't we take the road to Moria!?" I exclaimed since I felt so much like a Hobbit in the snow.  This trip at this point was so ludicrous and crazy that we kept going, laughing about it.  We were not cold, in any way, the exercise was incredible.  We even had to take a breather in the middle, with hearts pounding and my legs starting to give out.  Just keep swimming was looping in my head.  For a mile and a half we did this circus performance because honestly, what else was there to do?

Finally we turned on to our street, completing the last block by ourselves after we said goodbye to our friend (who had apologized for the third time for leading us through that mess).  We arrived home, thanked God, and Ken collapsed in a pile of snow.  I Survived: City Edition completed.

That night I learned that running during a blizzard is probably not a good idea, unless your survival instincts kick in and you must run or turn into a snowman.  That putting yourself in danger in the name of football, also not a great plan.  But together you can somehow get through it all to laugh about it for the next week (or year) and turn a bad situation into an exercise regime, albeit a strange one.

Written in a cozy dining room,

Sarah, The Culture Thrift