I can really pick 'em. After Thursday's run in thundersnow and hail, I skied three days and then decided to run yesterday. I was too lazy to get out early, and kept putting it off. I knew a storm was coming, but I figured as long as the radar was showing the blob on the west side of the lake, I still had at least an hour.

So I checked the radar one last time, got my act together, and got on the trail. Nice packed snow but oddly very warm out. I ended up running in a tank top...for a while, anyway.

And then it seemed that the wall-o-snow was approaching quite quickly. The 40 mph gusts with blowing snow started. By this time the long sleeved shirt was back on, along with a hat and gloves. I was literally getting blown across the surface of the ground like a moonwalker. It was quite invigorating. I also had to crouch down and run like a burglar a few time to keep from getting blown over.

But I got back to the car before it became a complete whiteout. Once again, I had to cut the run short (dammmmmit! ), but at least it was more than 2 miles this time. I'm still amazed at how fast storms scoot across the Great Salt Lake!