I woke up on Saturday morning and I was eager to get started on my long run. (Note: Only one of those things is true.) The sun was shining and I thought that it looked like the perfect weather for my first attempt at 18 miles and I was right it did look like the perfect weather for 18 miles. I flipped on the active menu on our TV to see what the temperature was and almost crawled back into bed. It gave an actual reading of 22 degrees but also proudly proclaimed that it “Feels Like 8 degrees.” As if that wasn’t enough there was also a cute little wind icon on the screen, right next to the phrase “27 mph,” and yes, I’m being facetious about the wind icon being cute. I’m still trying to figure out how to punch the wind in the face without looking like a total idiot.
Undaunted (lying again) I bundled up in my warmest running gear, donned my sunglasses and headed out the door for the first of what would be three 6 mile loops. The wind was brutal, there’s just no other way to put it. Many of the paths were still covered in ice and snow and the headwind that I was running into was brutal, did I mention that already? (I hope that you’re not sick of hearing about how much I hated the wind because that’s going to be a continuing theme in this post.)
On the upside, I was able to entertain myself by firing snot-rockets and loogies for record distances during most of the first loop. By the time I started running the second loop it was less entertaining and more of an annoyance that my nose wouldn’t stop running. I cursed my nose. I cursed the runner who had obviously run this path before me wearing YakTrax. I cursed YakTrax for not giving me a free pair to review on my blog. I cursed each and every one of you who have ever encouraged me to run a marathon. I cursed the headwind that I was running into and then chuckled when I thought ‘headwind? They should call it giving-head wind because it sucks!’ Then I cursed the wind again because my lips were so dry the chuckling cracked my lips.
I finished the second loop feeling completely sapped of strength and decided that I was done battling the wind. I headed inside and finished my final 6 miles on the treadmill and I think it’s safe to say that I’ve never loved my treadmill as much as I did on Saturday. Don’t get me wrong, I cursed the treadmill too but not nearly as much as I had been cursing the wind.