shiver me limber

The plan was to get my week's long run in this morning, so I can have the rest of the day to run errands and bake things for this weekend's outing.  This plan started to test me at 3 AM, when I awoke for no particular reason and stayed that way.  At 4, I succumbed to my growling stomach and the knowledge that the longer I was awake before my run, the more I would regret not eating before it.  I had a piece of the sausage-mushroom quiche left in the fridge and burnt the roof of my mouth on the first bite.  These things happen.

When I went back to bed, I still couldn't sleep, so I finished reading a book, then started reading a new book.  The alarm went off at 6; Wunderground forecast a 100% chance of rain (math is not my strong suit, but that is a near certainty) for the next 15 hours.  It was 34 degrees.  I dressed in a single layer, knowing I'd warm up as I ran, and still trying to convince myself that it was a good idea to go at all.

It wasn't easy.

I even had a long hesitation outside the front door when I confronted the rain and cold and nearly turned back to the door, but I'm stubborn, and sometimes that works in my favor.

It still took me a couple miles to warm to the idea.  Pun intended.

The thing is--and I always forget this, or have to forcefully remind myself of it--I like cold runs.  I even like rainy runs.  And, if really pressed, I kind of like cold, rainy runs, too.  I'm not sure why, but there's a list of hypotheses.  The crappy weather distracts me from how I feel, and how terrible I generally am at running.  I don't overheat; sweat hardly ever stings my eyes when it's that close to freezing.  I'm not as hesitant to plow through puddles because my lovely (new!) shoes are already soaked, so it can't make much difference, and puddles--as every three-year-old knows--are fun.  I like watching raindrops jet from my face when I pant through pursed lips.  I like the idea that every car who sees me thinks I am either nuts or a Real Runner (though in my mind, there is very little difference between the two), even though I usually see very few other runners when things get that nasty outside.

I like the feeling that I've made the challenge just a little bit greater by going up against bad weather, especially when I find that the bad weather actually helps me.

Sure, when I got back and iced my shins, I had goosebumps all the way down my legs, my fingers were tingly and numb (though they were fine during the run), and even with a blanket, my shoulders still felt cold, but during the run, I was great.  During the run, the weather didn't matter at all.

I need to remember that.