Winter has officially came back to Minnesota which means one thing: absolutely nothing is predictable.
This morning, I confidently took the dog down the driveway for his usual morning bathroom break. The descent? Smooth. Controlled. Graceful, even. I briefly considered that I might have a future in the Winter Games.
The return trip, however, was less inspirational documentary and more blooper reel.
Halfway up the hill, my wheelchair wheels began spinning with great enthusiasm and zero productivity. Snow spraying. No traction. Dog already finished with his event and waiting at the top like an unimpressed judge.
In that moment, it felt like I was personally qualifying for the uphill event at Winter Games in Milano-Cortina.
However, instead of international glory, I was competing against three inches of fresh Minnesota chaos.
The thing about winter here is that it doesn’t gently arrive. It shows up overnight, rearranges your plans, and turns a simple dog outing into an endurance sport.
In hindsight, I could have waited until the snow stopped.
I could have waited for the hill to be cleared.
But where’s the Olympic spirit in that?
Gold medal in effort.
Silver in spinning.
Bronze in decision-making.
And it’s only February.
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