My Father-in-law was visiting us for a week and in an attempt to support my Santa-to-svelte transformation, he took up the reins to roll me out of bed before work to run with him.  He picked the most amazing time to morph into a Drill Instructor:  DST-Spring Forward, rain, wind, cold temps…  Who wouldn’t want to leave their soft bed and warm wife to slip on still-wet shoes  to go run in the dark and shiver as the rain gods pee on them??  Ooh, sign me up!

We ran at Lincoln Park, along the beach, up the hill, and through the trees the first morning for a 3.5 mile jog.  That initial run was bearable, but the next Monday morning was a whole other monkey!  It was dark, I was tired, a touch hung over, there was pouring rain, the mercury sat at 43 degrees, and no coffee had yet found me.  Stamps-With-Foot’s father, who we shall forever more refer to as The Chatty Buddha, had been up for an hour, done some yoga, had coffee, and was full of wit and observations.  Without coffee, I am more of a grumpy Neanderthal than 21^st century Renaissance man.   It was hard not to send The Chatty Buddha to his celestial reward as we drove over to the park and as we began our run, a quip from him just after my first stride made me fantasize – in Technicolor – about pushing him down a long steep, wet, secluded forest stairway…  The sudden stop of rain, cessation of the biting wind, the sound of the trail crunching beneath us, and the sight/smell of the tide coming in – lapping the driftwood logs – made me completely forget about my in-law-patricidal thoughts.  We ran 4 miles and that sunrise beach run was the absolute highlight of my day.    Well, that and the resolutely frugal Chatty Buddha bought me a soul-satisfying triple Grande 1 pump Starbucks mocha as we headed home.  I am really glad he got me out into cold.