As North Carolina goes, this has been a pretty mild winter. Wet, but mild. We finally had our first snow this past week. A dusting: not enough for my kids to enjoy, but enough to remind us of what it looks like.

When winter weather arrives I have to decide whether to modify my running plans. I don’t like the treadmill, so despite the risk of turning an ankle or slipping I head out in most conditions. Over the years I have gotten to like running in bad weather. I usually see very few people, the temperatures tend to be more tolerable (cooler in the summer, warmer in the winter), and I like seeing how the landscape changes. The dry creek beds come alive, limbs bow deep under the weight of snow or ice, and ducks and geese swim into grass or trees foraged by sparrows the day before.

Snow is my favorite “bad” weather to run in. It can be fierce, but that’s not usually the kind we get here. Running in the snow is a pleasure for the senses. I like how the light hangs heavy in the clouds. I like the sounds of the snow: the crunch of each foot-fall, the slight tinkling as the flakes hit the ground, and the wind rolling through empty streets. One faces less pressure on a snow run: because it’s slick, you can’t run fast so there is no worry about performance: being there is enough. You can just enjoy being out and moving.

The snow this week wasn’t enough to give me most of those sensations, but I liked the change. I’ve run the same route so much in the past year that I appreciate getting to see something different and break the routine. I hope it’s not the only snow of the year, but I enjoyed it all the same.