For those of you in warmer climates, it’s fucking cold in the Northeast.
(And apparently in the Southeast, as my Facebook feed is crawling with friends who have “Snow Days.” What are those? I don’t remember.)
This has been a great training season for me.
My head’s in the right place.
I’ve been nailing my workouts—the mid-week long runs home from the office, the goal marathon pace miles, the long runs.
And the cold just got worse.
Last week, we were greeted with yet another blast of arctic air. This time around, however, it was sub-zero temperatures.
There was minimal running.
His Lordship and I managed to get out on Saturday for a brief run before another round of snowfall.
That snowfall turned to ice throughout the night, botching our first 18-miler of the season to be run on Sunday.
His Lordship and I deemed this week would be different—we would get our necessary workouts in.
And then we had yet another blast of cold air, leaving me to do my ‘800s on a treadmill before work.
Spring, get here already. I cannot say it enough.