Friday, January 23, 2009

9.5 miles on a Friday night

Nighttime running is not my typical routine. If I’m not running at 5am, I’m not usually running. This morning the alarm went off at 4:30 and I made it out of bed, but couldn’t bring myself to get dressed and out the door. “Tonight will be warmer”, I called down the stairs. Back to bed we went. I’m not sure if it’s because we didn’t run this morning or because I have spent the last 2 nights in Boston until late, but today was a bad day. I was EXHAUSTED! I spent much of the day planning for my evening nap. It’s funny because as much as I dread the early morning very cold runs, I go to work after with this sense of energy. It wakes me up, clears my mind and gets me ready. Today that didn’t happen. Instead I woke from a 2-hour post work nap and Joe and I hit the roads. Heading down Lloyd Ave felt warm, too warm. It was 34 degrees, not typically a temp that is associated with warmth, but considering our last run was in 18 degrees, it was warm. My legs resisted at first, we had to stop on Elmgrove to stretch for a few moments. I wondered if it was worth it to keep going. If we turned around now, we would have run less than 4 miles. That would have screwed me up for the rest of the weekend, and we pressed on. Finally heading up Hope St., into Pawtucket my legs began to loosen up. I started to notice that things were beginning to freeze. When we started I was warm and had removed my gloves and loosened my top zipper. By now we were on Pleasant St in Pawtucket and I was fumbling to get my gloves back on. The road started to sparkle as cars went by, puddles were a firmer texture, it was getting colder. One of the things I love about running is the opportunity it offers. I have seen many things on the roads that I would have missed if I spent my time in the gym. Tonight for an hour and 45 minutes I watched the roads react to the artic air that was descending upon us. I felt it in my own legs, heading down the Blvd, I was cold, cold like we are in the early mornings. Several times I attempted to persuade Joe to take a short cut so we could head back to the car, he resisted. As we kept going things started to resemble our mornings. The traffic eased and the light faded. When we headed up Elmgove, towards Angell St., it looked like it does in the morning; the bank illuminating it from a half mile away. I’m not sure I’m sold on evening running, but there is not as much as a difference as I would have assumed. Tomorrow, when we head out at 8, the roads will be much as we left them this evening.

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