Back in the early 1980s, when I was in college, there were few bands bigger than The Police, with their funky reggae/punk sound that we all loved. This afternoon, I found myself humming to the lilting beat of their hit "Walking on the Moon," as I meandered my way through my front yard and back yard, which is currently encased in three feet (or more!) of crusty snow. Specifically, these lyrics seemed to make the most sense to me as I comically trudged through the yard:
Giant steps are what you take. Walking on the moon.
I hope my leg don't break. Walking on the moon.
That's what it felt like. Yeah. There is a LOT of snow out there. I was doing my best to rake some of the heavy stuff off sections of our roof. I did what I could, given the limitations of my uncoordinated gait, and my certainly not well defined upper body.
This has been some winter, huh? Challenging. So very very challenging. With no room to run on the roads, I worry every minute of every day about the safety of our athletes and where they can train outside. Most of them have been limited to dreary, on-campus loops for safety. But even there, icy spots lurk.
Man. That first 65-degree day is going to feel really nice now, isn't it?
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