Yesterday morning was a bitter one.
14 degrees, felt like 4.
Now, I'm not a wuss. I grew up in the midwest, where school wasn't canceled for cold weather. Well, except for once when it was a high of -15 and the pipes froze. We had a weather day that day. But some of the earliest pictures my parents have of me are me standing outside around age 2, with snow that's over my head. I'm not a wuss.
But today was rough. I was underdressed, for one thing, but not too badly (fleece hat, fleece ear band, Buff for the neck, thin jacket, long sleeve shirt, Moeben sleeves, light gloves, and yoga pants. Yoga pants! That are too short! And to think, I had warm tights and even extra-thick running pants I could have pulled out if I'd been paying attention). And I was underprepared, mentally. It was only 5m, but I've spent the rest of the day exhausted from it.
At 9:30 I headed to bed. It was cold out.
Also, tomorrow is my crazy stairclimb. I've so far wowed two classes of undergrads with the fact that I'll be running up all 86 flights of the Empire State Building tomorrow. I wouldn't say I'm nervous, as it's hard to train for something like this, but I also wouldn't say I feel fully prepared. I wish I'd gotten another dry run in. And I'm kind of sore from this weekend (inexplicable, given that it was 9 easy miles over 2 days and shouldn't have had any effect on me). I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow...
On I went, out of the wood, passing the man leading without knowing I was going to do so. Flip-flap, flip-flap, jog-trot, jog-trot, curnchslap-crunchslap, across the middle of a broad field again, rhythmically running in my greyhound effortless fashion, knowing I had won the race though it wasn't half over, won it if I wanted it, could go on for ten or fifteen or twenty miles if I had to and drop dead at the finish of it, which would be the same, in the end, as living an honest life like the governor wanted me to. -Alan Sillitoe, "Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner"