The First Step is Admitting You Have a Problem

Distance Run: 3.82 mi
Time: 42:00
Pace: 10:59 min/mil
Most Challenging Moment: Managing the blisters from my new, stylish Frye boots
Most Inspiring Moment: Seeing the old lady with the tiny dogs out there, killin' it

There was a moment, right before my run, when I realized what I was doing made no rational sense. I was in the entranceway of my building, looking out the door at the rain and the cold, and the ancient reptilian part of my brain just said nope. "It is cold and wet outside," it argued. "You do not like being cold or wet. Going outside right now is something a crazy person would do."

Yup, can't really argue with that. It was freezing, and because my running gear is basically two-year-old sneakers and some tights I got for sale at H&M, the best thing I could do to keep warm was layer on a sweatshirt and one of Dave's knit hats. (When I came home, he gently suggested I go shopping for appropriate clothing)

I was miserable, and then I took Abby to her favorite pee spot, and as I was waiting for her to do her stuff (the time it takes her to git it done is inversely proportional to how cold/wet it is), who should jog by but the old lady with the two tiny dogs.

I've seen her before, encouraging her little dogs as she jogs the Southwest Corridor, and today she had a look of grim determination on her face. The kind of look that says "A little rain isn't going to stop me!"

With that bit of inspiration, we were off.

The first few minutes, my running form--spotty at best--could have been set to Benny Hill music. I'm not sure what I was thinking. Maybe that I could outrun the cold? I was scampering down the street like my butt was on fire.

Eventually we settled into a rhythm, only to be immediately thrown off when Abby FREAKED OUT upon seeing the giant gold Christmas ornament outside the Pru. (to be fair, that's gotta be pretty bewildering for a dog)

I also misjudged how deep a puddle by the curb was, thanks to the layer of leaves floating on top. I ended up soaking myself up to my ankles and let out a noise like a cat getting dropped in a bathtub.

My sweatshirt, post run. The wet parts are in red.

But, we made it home, both of us wet and sniffly with another training run under our belts. The first thing I saw was Dave and Iris, snuggly on the couch, identical looks of warm sleepiness on their faces.

Jealous? Very.