Nothin’ But a Good Time

I’m going to skip the formalities of asking who knows the name of this thundering band from the 80s that sang the song the blog is named for. Assuming you don’t know, we are no longer friends, which is an assumption I prefer not to make.

Reno has the first real snow dusting of the year; let the snow bunnies and ski bums come forth! It’s winter time folks; bring the plants inside because it is going to be a cold one! On three separate occasions this week, I had discussions about how boring people are the only ones who could possibly be bored in Reno (or any other outdoor-centric town with a killer university), and that the onus is really on them for being lame, uninteresting folks who need to reevaluate their life.

Perhaps one of my favorite things about Reno is the amazing river path, which is miles of paved trail that traverses the Truckee River offering some of the greatest glimpses of downtown city life, nature, and some dang-fine people watching. I live about 16 feet away from this glorious path, which grants me easy and frequent access to escape the realities of my life. Naturally, I see many interesting sights during my running adventures east and west, but this week provided a few hilarious ones I couldn’t help but share…


It’s cold, which is fine when you’re running in the appropriate layer of clothing and moving quickly. You rapidly turn into a furnace belching steamy breath in the frigid air instead of remaining a blue ice cube, the greatest part of which is when you finish your run and take off your hat and sleeves and the steam is just poring off of your body into the chilly morning air. Awesome!

People walk or run their dogs quite religiously along this path, as to be expected, and my dog Lucy is quite the fan as well, but this week I stumbled across an interesting sight. This particular owner was out running not one, but two dogs, and the dogs (poor little creatures) happened to be Corgis.

Now Corgis need no introduction, and if you need more information you can simply ask the Queen of England how she feels about their rather stubby legs. Granted, the little balls of fur need exercise too, I get it, BUT the real kicker was that the owner wasn’t out running the dogs. The dogs, much to my disbelief, were out running their owner! Hilarious! At 6 in the morning on a frosty day, two of the smallest and fluffiest dogs I’ve seen in a while were out pulling along a tiny Asian woman who couldn’t have weighed more than 100 pounds. I expect something of the sort from a St. Bernard, Mastiff, or heck, even a wolf, but seriously? The experience made my day and onwards I went.

Reno is filled with quaint coffee shops, great art galleries, and a myriad of downtown and (Midtown) restaurants and bars to appeal to people of all types. It has frosty covered hills in either direction, about 12, 492 ski resorts within an hour’s drive, and quality companies making a large impact on the world (EMPLOYERS!). There’s a phenomenal educational opportunity at the University of Nevada, and most people argue that the quality of life is top notch. Granted, some of the people may drink a tad too much, but just avoid the bar scene if you aren’t into that and you’ll be fine…

Opportunities are what you make of them, the fleeting ones and the ones that persist over years, and I feel like I’ve made the most of my opportunities in Reno. I’ve fostered the addiction known as triathlon so much so that it’s become engrained in nearly every decision I make on a daily basis, I’ve got a group of loyal, supportive friends who I would jump in front of a car for, and my job enables me to explore and enjoy the beautiful West Coast at my bidding (if only I would take vacation), and I am perfectly capable of stepping outside my condo to inhale the icy, fresh air as season change sweeps in over the Sierra’s. Life is good. Life is great. Life is Reno.

There is nothing to be found in northern Nevada BUT a good time, and anyone who tells you otherwise is either A) so obsessed with Las Vegas that they’ve been blinded or B) they don’t really appreciate the value of a medium sized town with world class outdoor activities. Home means Nevada, and my home is in here. Let the good times roll!


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