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Seeing as this blog was originally supposed to function (partially) as an accountability tool for my training, I should probably actually write about running.  Yesterday was a pretty rough run.  Though the temps were only in the low-to-mid 20s, I was absolutely not going to run 8 miles on a treadmill again.  So it was off to Gray’s Lake to hit the pavement.  

I’ve done an 8-miler at Gray’s before, and it’s not nearly as exciting as it sounds.  Ok, let’s be honest, it doesn’t sound exciting at all.  It sounds awful.  Four times around a lake?  Yeah, not so much.  Although sucking fumes isn’t my idea of a good time, running downtown sounded a whole hell of a lot better than the alternative.  And even though it was only 25 degrees, the sun was out.  And I’d be running, and running makes you hot!  So the cold wasn’t going to be an issue.

False.  It was effing freezing.  I made the mistake of not taking into account the wind.  Or the fact that 25 degrees is 25 degrees, no matter how high in the sky the sun is.  Or how thick your hat is.  Even with gloves, my fingers froze.  The thought that I should invest in running tights that aren’t capris crossed my mind about 10 minutes in, when I lost all feeling in my ankles.  I layered up, but it didn’t make much of a difference.  I never really warmed up, never shook that “cold down to your bones” feeling.  Also, the cold is much more noticeable when you stop for five minutes to use the restroom in a cozy, warm coffee shop, and then step back outside.  It’s pretty cruel actually.  Any warmth I soaked up was ripped away by a huuuge gust of wind that blew past the moment I stepped back on the street.

However, some interesting things happened on this run.  I witnessed someone resisting arrest in the Starbucks on 10th St., so that was pretty entertaining.  I’m not entirely sure what she was being arrested for, as she didn’t appear to be A) drunk or B) shoplifting anything.  I learned that men in big trucks will honk at anyone in tight pants.  Even if that person is sweaty, red-faced and spitting while standing on the corner.  I suppose I should be flattered.  Unless, of course, I completely misunderstood the meaning of the honk and should thus be offended.  I’m going with the former, for my own selfish reasons.

The final interesting ridiculous thing to happen was my decision, and consequent inability, to run down MLK/Fleur to Gray’s Lake to finish out the 8 miles.  Impossible.  No sidewalk.  Mushy, cold grass.  So, in the freezing cold, windy weather, I ran a half-mile out of my way to get back to the lake while sticking to pavement.  In the grand scheme of things, a half-mile is really not a big deal.  Less than five minutes.  But it was 25 DEGREES.  25!  Anything more than necessary was so cruel, and the fact that I did it to myself was even worse.  How many times a week do I drive down MLK/Fleur?  Sometimes more than once a day!  How could I completely forget there’s no sidewalk?  I must be more distracted lately than I realized.

All in all, I’m impressed that I did it.  Will I never run outside when it’s below 30 again?  Probably.  Will I regret it the entire time I’m running?  Probably.  But now I know I can do it, I can handle more than I thought.  That’s probably the one thing I’ve learned about myself this month.  That things don’t go as planned and I can’t control everything, as much as I want to.  Life doesn’t make exceptions for you based on how you’re feeling or what you want.  It keeps trucking on, and you have to do the same.  It’s a shitty realization, but a legitimate one nonetheless.  I’m just glad February is over.  Here’s to March bringing good times and better luck!