After several weeks off due to illness, holidays, more illness, and - last but not least - dread, Elizabeth and I are back on the wagon, training for a marathon in May.
And wow, what an absolutely stupid time to get back into our training regimen. It's somewhere between -20 and -30 degrees outside, the streets and sidewalks are slick with ice and dirty with salt and gravel, and it's dark when we wake up and when we get home from work - meaning our runs are always in absolute gloom. I do what I can to avoid it - we should be running now, instead of writing blog posts about running - but I know it'll catch up eventually.
...get it? Catch up?
Anyway, the great thing about running is that it's a really meditative space. On last night's run, I solved a problematic ending for a short story I currently have under critique, and plotted out an entirely new short story. And in only three miles! Tonight we're doing five, so I hope that I can figure out how to plot the final stages of the epic fantasy novel I'm cobbling together. My basic problem: I need a trilogy's worth of space (I know, right? Who would ever have thought I'd say those words!), but I hate books that, on their own, end as cliffhangers.
Alright, well... better go put my half-dozen layers of clothing. It's off to the races with me.