When 23 degrees doesn’t feel like 23

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving Turkey, salt rubbed, and grilled (amazing) by my husband. Since then, the temperatures dropped significantly up here at the lake. Yet, we promised we’d take the boys on the infamous toboggan run. However, we were not dressed for it — no snow pants, and I was even wearing my “city” hat, which meant that the hat could not be worn — or I’d loose it at the speed of 33 miles per hour. 

My knees shook, and my breath froze as we drove into the park, the tall trees beckoning us by bending forward to greet us from the winds. My husband and I decided we’d take turns driving up the hill… “really, you can go first,” I said. When it was my turn, I found that carrying the 10 pound toboggan sled up 12 or so flights of stairs was really a great way to get the heart pumping — so by the time I arrived at the top, I was more than ready to take off my hat. The cold didn’t even penetrate through my city coat.  That’s something you forget about winter — how exhilarating it truly is to move your muscles beyond where they want to go when the temperature drops to those uncomfortable levels.

We were able to get 10 runs in before our hour was up — our record is six. Inspired by all of that chilly air, we came home and decorated our “lake” tree, letting Mr. Turtle serve as the tree-topper.

(Shot with my cell phone. Can you believe I forgot my camera?)