My husband started training today for the half-marathon coming up in April. He got up and went for a 4 mile run with the University track team at 7:30 this morning. It was 19 degrees, with snow on the ground and a nice brisk wind to add to the comfort level.
But he did it, and guilt being a good motivator, I decided I could do it too. I waited until the afternoon. After all, by then it had warmed up to a near-tropical 22 degrees, the sun was shining, and although the wind was still blowing at a pretty good clip, there was no snow on the roads and no real reason not to go.
My husband recently gave me all kinds of equipment to make exercising in the cold a more feasible thing for me to do. A wicking hat, with a slit in it for my ponytail. Wicking tights, with zippers at the ankles so you can put them on over your shoes. A fancy-schmancy jacket with a liner and all kinds of pockets and key holders and even an iPod holder. The liner has slits in the wrists so you can loop the sleeves around your thumbs. Wicking gloves, with another key holder. So I was all set.
When I got outside, the wind hit me right in the face. I decided I really only needed to go as far as the end of the driveway. But when I got there I thought I might as well go to the end of the road. Then I thought as long as I was out and dressed in all my suitable attire, there really wasn't any reason to go the whole 4 mile loop.
Here's the funny thing: once I got going, I really didn't feel all that cold. And there is so much beauty to see outside on a bright winter day. The seed heads of grasses waving on the side of the road. The dried red fruit on the sumac branches, standing out against the snow. A few brave birds were out flitting around and making racket.
I was glad I went, and now I'm back home getting ready for a nice hot shower. I should probably be drinking some hot tea to warm me up as well, but instead I'm having a diet coke. The only thing on me that's chilled is my face.
Maybe I need a wicking balaclava.
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