I set out for my run in an IM cap, a lightweight fleece, capri tights and my Zoots (cause the water flows oh so freely through them). Oh, and I had on gloves. I felt good from the onset. And I headed toward downtown. I passed a couple guys with shit-eatin' grins and waved. These were the only other two crazies out last night.
A couple miles in, I started to feel my upper body warm up. I unzipped a bit.
A mile later, I was regretting that move. The cold started to settle in. I think it rained down my top. That didn't help.
The last couple miles my pace kept creeping faster. And I think it's because all I could think of was getting the run over with and into a hot shower. I was running with my hands covering my frozen nips. My legs had long gone numb.
I walked inside and stripped down and literally had to wring out my clothes in the bathtub. Even my gloves. Immediately to a hot shower where I felt like my skin was burning off. I thought for sure I'd lose some sensitivity due to nerve damage and frost bite. It was hard to eat after such trauma. I don't know if I was more upset that I was so cold or by the fact that I felt betrayed by my instincts to love the rain running.
I piled on layers and cranked up the heat for bed.
And I awoke to 54 degrees and wind. Like crazy blustering wind. Like, the kind of wind that is scary to be outside walking your dog in kind of wind. And then the radio told me that we're dropping to 18 degrees by this evening. And more wind. Lots of it. Like 60 mph gusts. Remnants of Ike kind of wind. So, I jumped on the trainer and finished watching Whatever Works before heading into
It is now 31 degrees. And it is still wet out. That means we'll have some glorious ice out there. And there are almost 10,000 people without power because of the crazy wind. Ugh. I hope I'm not one of them. I'll have to jump on the trainer for warmth.