Flashback Friday: Hmm ... I Got Nothing

For all my complaining about the weather, it has never forced me to give up on a run. Extensive heat and humidity has made me walk more than I'd like to admit, but I still completed the miles. One of my favorite runs was during a torrential summer drencher, when I whipped a guy who had been on my heels for most of the final mile and a half of a six-miler. (That mile and a half was where I saw him turn around.)

Like many of my fellow idiots runners, I take perverse pleasure in conquering the weather by putting sole to pavement. Bitch and moan though I do, once I'm out there, I'm fine and always feel better about the run in the end.

However, mark Wednesday's intentions as an exception. I was just going to do four miles after work. I checked the weather before I left the office and saw that I would need to bundle up. No surprise there. When I set out on my run, it was about 20 degrees, but the severe windchill put it somewhere around zero. No worry, after a few minutes my body would heat up and I'd be fine.

Wrong. That beastly wind just kept sneaking through my layers. My face felt chapped and stiff. I was sure my left cheek would have to be chiseled off my face with an ice pick. After the first mile, I was starting to question why I was out in this weather. I couldn't hack it. At about a mile and a half, I diverted back toward home. Four miles became two.

I tried to make the most of it by ratcheting up my pace for that final half mile. In the end, I didn't feel better. I wished instead I had followed my own advice for this kind of weather. The warm shower afterward thawed me out.

Yesterday, the temperature was about the same. But no wind. Those four miles went by without even a shudder. I wore the same clothes and felt too hot.