Bitter, bone-chilling cold, -15C wind-chill, heavy sky, let's go for a run!
So I dress up until I look vaguely like a Muslim woman, only my eyes showing, if Muslim women wore sweatsuit pants, balaclavas with hoodies on top, bright green down jackets, their husbands' black socks pulled up over the bottoms of the trousers, and all this on top of sky-blue running shoes!
And off we go! I have a problem though, because even though I like to be warm, I am also highly claustrophobic, and so after about 15 seconds of running my mouth panics behind the balaclava, thinking, "I can't breathe! I can't breathe!" and my hand reaches up and pulls it down below my chin as the frozen air rushes into my astonished lungs. I briefly wonder, as I hurtle down the first hill, how they are managing, but they seem to have got over themselves until I turn and start uphill, when it all becomes rather difficult.
But at last we regain our equilibrium and everything is going quite well. I think I see a couple of Pine Siskins which scoot across my path into the undergrowth, otherwise the meadow is still, as all the birds are probably visiting my feeders. This morning from the bathroom window I spy a whole flock of about twenty dark-eyed juncos, all happily stocking up on the seed I threw out for the ground feeders, filling their dear little white tummies, which give them the appearance of having bathed in snow.
The intense cold causes water to stream from my eyes and I find myself wondering if there are ice drops on my face, but I think my skin is too warm for that. After a couple of km I even have to take off my sweaty gloves, but the hoodie never comes off, it is just THAT cold.
When I come down the home stretch past the beehive, I feel like Roald Amundsen having successfully negotiated the cold of the Antarctic, must be my Scandinavian blood! I find I have run 4.96 km, at a rate of 7.05 minutes per km. (I must have run so fast to hurry up and get back home!)
I can sympathize with the claustrophobia from all that winter gear! I walk everyday with my white dog, just as you run with your Molly. I feel like a prisoner trapped in gloves, boots, puffy jacket, and other ridiculous layers.
ReplyDeleteLove your pictures of feet and footprints in the snow!