There was a time when I could get up at 4:30 a.m. and be out the door at an ungodly hour, putting in 10 miles or a big tempo run before heading out to work.
Hello, my name is Kenny, and I'm addicted to running. My schedule said run 5 miles today, so because I had a dinner with a friend after work, there was no other choice but to wake up at 5 a.m. so I could -- irrationally, it seems -- head out with 'only' three layers on top, two mitts a neck gaiter and a lot of hope that I could generate enough body heat in the -13C (windchill was something like -20C but who cares, it was cold enough).
As usual, 10 minutes in, hoping the wind wouldn't pick up, I was feeling kinda okay. People were shivering as they were making their way to their early morning jobs. You could only pay someone to be out there in that weather. And me. And others, it seemed.
By the time I was rounding a corner, I was spotting other winter runners. We were all bundled up. Some ran in pairs, others like me solo. The misery of it all, a little better once we know it's shared.
The worst part? I got 10 miles tomorrow, and it ain't getting any warmer.
All is well about running in crazy conditions, but it'll be nicer when I line up for my spring marathon. There will be thousands of others who got through a winter like we're going through right now. We suffer so the pain we feel of race pain is the good kind, the pain of being prepared, the pain that was earned so many months ago.
A pain that you feel when your alarm goes off and the best course of action would be to hit the snooze button and stay in your warm bed.