Sunday the weather conspired against me and I ended up heading out all by my lonesome. By the time I had gotten to the first stop sign I had to stop and zip up a back pocket. That little draft down the back side was a little more than I could stand.
At mile 10 I tried to drink for the first time. Note to self, when you go out on a really cold day, make sure the top is open on your bottles. Mine had frozen shut and I had to hold it in my mouth for a few minutes to thaw it. Then I got it thawed and what water I could get out of the bottle was so cold that I didn't want to drink it.
A few miles later I saw Gwynne (Marshall Mechanical) and her buffo hubby Kevin and friend Matt out running. I know that Gwynne said something to me as I went by, but with the helmet, and skull cap, I think I picked up like 1 out of 5 words. Something like, ".... Karen. Dont ....... cold." I did manage two words, "I'm cold." I bet she couldn't understand them, either.
It's days like this that make you tough for the summer suffering. Or that's the conventional thought anyway. I stayed cold all day, and only warmed up in the tub that night. If I get a bailout, and am able to give myself a retention bonus, I'm seriously considering moving to somewhere warm. This below freezing stuff just plain sucks.