So. Cold.

Distance: 3 miles
Time: ???
Pace: ???? (before it crapped out, it said 10:26 min/mil, but that can't be right)
Most Challenging Moment: COLD
Most Inspiring Moment: Didn't fall on my butt

I have to admit, I was dreading this run.

See that right there? Feels like 5 degrees? That's about 50 degrees colder than I would like. And let's not forget about the fine layer of snow and ice covering the sidewalks.

But the weather was only the beginning. I'm still sore from Monday's cross training (Cindy Whitmarsh, you chipper devil), and the baby has doubled down on her sleep strike. She's starting to do this thing where, when we put her in the crib, she lets out a noise like a dinosaur. If that sounds adorable, imagine it at chainsaw decibel levels for an hour, and you'll get an idea of what it's like to sleep in our apartment lately. She's lucky she looks like this:

So this morning, when I woke up to my alarm, exhausted, with the baby finally asleep and snuggled in beside me, our freshly-washed flannel sheets cozy and warm, running was the last thing I wanted to do. I hit snooze three times. I tried to imagine a world where I could fall back asleep. And then I threw off the covers and got dressed. Where's my medal?

Today was, theoretically, supposed to be an easy run. Three miles! It was like running through glue, if glue had the temperature of a brisk Arctic wind. Abby did not come with me because she had her first day of puppy school! Here she is, ready to head off and be a good little pup:

The one saving grace was that at least the city looked pretty. The Charles has just started to ice over, so no more crew practice:

But man it was coooold. So cold my iPhone once again called it quits, even though I was trying to be nice to it and not switch around my Spotify playlist while running. I tried to warm it up inside my jacket like it was a delicate baby bird, but no dice. I did, however, manage to snap this picture of Cambridge before it died:

Just like the baby: you get right to the point where you're ready to pull your hair out, and then you take another look at it and fall in love all over again.