The problem isn't really that the weather is crappy. The problem literally is that it wasn't crappy the other day when I ran my six miles. Does that make sense? If the weather had just stayed crappy all this time instead of gracing us with unseasonably, teasingly, gorgeous weather, I would've been fine running in the cold until it heated up and stayed spring, then summery. No problem...it's the changing that screws me up and makes me pout.
Last night, when I went to bed, I was (as I already stated) famished, but I also really wanted to run. A lot. Problem was, of course, that it was dark and late and clearly a bad idea. Now I complain about the weather. In the past, before I read this month's "Runner's World" I convinced myself that running in the rain would make me sick so I shouldn't do it. Unfortunately, this month's edition told me-point blank-that running in the rain for a half hour won't affect my health at all.
One less excuse.
I am going to do my best to suck it up and just go for a run...sans dogs. (If I take one and not the other, the one left behind freaks out. Byz tears shit up and Bogey will, most likely, pee on something.) Sans Fi-he's in class...sans warm weather.
I know I'm supposed to hate global warming and I do, in all practical forms of theory and application and future-repercussions of it-but I do love how it makes the winter comfortable, even if just for a few days.
When I return: stuffed peppers for dinner. YUM!