Is it officially a sickness when you are disappointed the weather isn’t crappy when you run? I have learned more about running in foul weather in the last two years than in the other 40 combined. It now takes a tornado warning, large hail or temperatures well below zero to keep me from my appointed run. Thursday before last I damn near killed myself trying to get to a regularly scheduled run when EVERY road to and from my house was flooded. And for what? A bead? The satisfaction of getting my run in? A notch on the gun to brag about later? Scars? Physical therapy visits? Why do I do this?
This morning I will admit to being slightly disappointed when I arrived for my run and not only was it NOT raining but the weather was (almost) perfect. Fifty two degrees, bright stars shining. The only thing to gripe about was a little wind. I got in 5.6 miles at an ok pace but spent the entire time (that I should have been concentrating on pace, et al.) hoping that the lightning I saw on the horizon would get to us before the run was over. That’s sad. We have had such crappy weather for so long that I am now frustrated by GOOD weather (he says as a deluge roars outside…). I don’t know what to wear. I have nothing to bitch about (except my lack of fitness). I’m miserable when I’m not miserable.
Demented… That’s what I really am… I need a new hobby… Anyone for cribbage?