It felt like running on a sandy beach - minus the sand, waves or any inkling of heat normally associated with a beach.
Four inches of powder snow had fallen Sunday by the time my dog, Remy, and I headed out for a six-mile run. It was still falling, and continued to do so as we meandered the gradually disappearing river trails that parallel the mighty Red in Fargo.
Running through the squishy, slippery mess was tough, and it added nearly a minute to my mile average. But the extra exertion required to cover the same distance felt great. Even Remy, at just a little older than 19 months, used up all his puppy energy, and spent the rest of the day loafing around the house.
As often is the case, sidewalks were largely untouched during the run. I expected it, given the fact it snowed all day and well into the evening.
But I was a tad dismayed when Monday brought much of the same. Tuesday was a bit better, but large swaths of sidewalk remained untouched by any means of snow-removal mechanism.
For a young lad, such as myself, snowy walkways can be nothing more than a nuisance. But all it takes is one wayward step, and the result can be broken bones - or worse.
So for the sake of all of our backsides - young and old - please, if you have not done so, clean your sidewalks. Our bones and nerves will thank you.