Seasonably bad running
At times I revel in cold weather running.
The sense of defeating the elements is empowering.
Refusing to let something as piddly as snow flurries and a negative wind chill stand between me and the five miles I’ve written down on my calendar, gives me a sense of accomplishment beyond what pounding the pavement usually provides.
But the past two weeks of continuous cloud cover and borderline freezing temperatures have had the opposite effect.
I blame my miserableness on the unseasonably warm days in March that reminded me of the joys of summer running. You know – the little things – like not having to wear three layers of heavy clothing or not being afraid that if you get a side cramp and have to walk home you might freeze to death.
Last week I was so done with cold weather running that I ran once. One time in six days. And my long run? Forget about it. I put in five slow miles with my body protesting the entire run.



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