The story so far: Your hero, born of a mild climate, triumphed over adversity and almost a whole inch of blizzard-like conditions by going for his first-ever run on the snow. However, yesterday’s snow threatened to become today’s lethal ice. Now read on…
Going to work on a Monday morning is hard enough without having to shuffle over icy pavements like an old person. Sludgy, slushy ice that would surely freeze during a zero-degree afternoon and make a skating rink of the whole thing. Grrr.
But never mind work; with the streets still icy and no park open late nearby, how would I manage for my run tonight? Get the tram to a nearby running track and hope it had been cleared? Head all the way into town, run around the Champ de Mars, and then wait cold and hungry for a late train only part of the way home? The evening promised hassle.
But when I made the return journey and got out from the metro station… Oh bliss! Oh joy! The ice was gone!
Some industrious Parisian local authority workers, driven by honest endeavour and not out on strike for once, must have swept the pavements clear of slush this afternoon. That, or God sent forth a crashing wave of soapy anti-freeze to wash clear the streets for his chosen genre of sport. (The latter is the more likely.)
Anyway, I had my usual six mile run tonight. Here and there, splatters of ice like pigeon droppings stained the streets, but in general the route was clear. The track was clear of snow and ice too – but unusually quiet as I approached it. Where were the rugby teams that usually train in the field in the centre of the track? Ha! Too cold for them! There were five or six other runners doing laps tonight, all of us harder than rugby players.
The cold weather continues here in the greater Paris area, but no more snow is forecast for the rest of this week…