It’s interesting that the last time I posted I was talking about how churlish I was complaining that it was ‘only’ 21deg C and how the Winter version of myself would be totally unimpressed. Well funnily enough, here I am, my then future self now having to run in the Winter. What is also interesting is that I was right. I do think the Summer version of myself was a bit of a numpty for thinking that!
Having said that, I had a great run today albeit in 1deg C weather with a couple of centimetres of snow on the ground. It was fresh, well, cold, and I got a good 11k in up to the airfield near work. It may be cold but I love a snowy run. The cold, crunchy snowy runs rather than the brown, gritty, slushy runs. Today was the former fortunately. Here I told you so:
My current target is a local 54mile race on road and trail, starting and finishing at Pitsford Water in Northamptonshire, if anyone has heard of it. I’m painfully aware that I’ve only got 2 months to train for this and I’m yet to run a 20k long run in 2019.
I’m not at panic stations yet as hopefully that will change this weekend and I’ve built up the mileage sensibly in this timeframe before. I’m sure that’s do-able, right? Plus if I get more runs like today’s then I’ve got plenty of running to look forward to.
Anyway I digress, back to today and what’s the post title all about. I’d be keen to know if I’m alone with this. I tend to get quite cosy on cold runs, bobble hat on, warm gloves on and sometimes get quite the sweat on. Everything’s warm. Except my face. My face keeps this a secret though until I’ve finished the run.
There I am quietly impressed at my ability to appropriately layer up and fend off the cold. Somewhat of an Edmund Hillary if you will. Then I’ll get back to the changing room, still very proud of my (ok, modest) achievement. A colleague will then make a comment saying how it ‘must have been a chilly one’ with a knowing chuckle. Just when I’m ready to show how tough and prepared for such Arctic conditions I am, my face steps up and puts me in my place. Unbeknownst to me, of course, my face has decided to go numb in the cold and will now refuse to let me articulate any words. Oh it will make a sound, don’t worry. It’ll make the sound of a person trying to talk with cotton wool stuffed in their mouth. Yep, smooth, Tom, real smooth. Said colleague will sure enough smile awkwardly, shuffle away and make certain they don’t see me again for the rest of the day.
Perhaps I’m not the hardy, winter explorer I thought I was. As nice as it looked everywhere today though, I’d give anything for a 21deg C run right now.
<*shakes head disapprovingly again at the summer version of himself*>