Quiet is good, too. Then I can listen to the sounds of the world around me, birds, cars, the strike of sneakers on the path.
Sunday, that sound was different. Stiffer. Like frozen rubber hitting the ground.
Because, you know... it was in the low twenties, windy as hell, and we were out running at quarter to eight in the morning.
Each year that I've been running, I've become more acclimated to the idea of running outside year round. I get better about braving the cold, and spend fewer days on the agony of the treadmill.
I like running outdoors. It's harder. It's more interesting, has beautiful scenery. It comes with hills.
Sunday, I did not like running outdoors.
Wary of the forecast, I opted to sleep in on Saturday Bagel Run and instead went out on Sunday morning with some friends. I dropped water at the five and seven mile markers.
By the time we reached five, the bottle had partially frozen.
By the time we reached seven (with a half-consumed water bottle), the water that had splashed into the neck of the bottle had frozen there.
By the time we reached nine, my fingertips were numb.
When I got home, Matt made me tea and I lay in the Slanket for a while before I thawed.
This run taught me a few things.
- I need better gloves.
- I need need to wear more gear, or,
- I need to choose my time of day/weather conditions more wisely.
And, partially related to this list, it taught me that I do have a lower limit. Runs won't always be easy or comfortable or fun, but I don't have to be miserable. I might just pay the treadmill some visits, voluntarily, this winter.
Anyone know a way to get a good hill workout in on that thing?