Fog

I sweat like a pig when I run, but this morning during my five miler the moisture on my skin was more from the water in the air than it was from the liquid that seeps from my pores. My goatee had drops of water in it from the mist that hung in the air. It reminded me of a Stephen King novella I read once.

I felt abandoned by the rest of the world and almost claustrophobic as the fog closed me in and my iPod isolated me from any sound other than the Dave Matthews Band. Cars would appear as if from nowhere as the fog concealed them until they were just in sight. It was a good morning to stay off of the road and on the sidewalks where my ankles fear the uneven pavement I can barely see.

It is another typical December in Lake Jackson Texas where the weather feels more like April than a holiday morning. I am not complaining though because the heat and humidity suit me better than ice and cold wind.

It will probably sleet tomorrow.