There are days when, no matter which way I go, I seem to be running into the wind, my greatest foe. One running buddy once said, “Gee, I’d thought you’d run like a hot knife through butter when it was windy like this.” Really though, when there is a little of me and a lot of wind, it’s more like trying to run through a brick wall.
Last week, the winds changed and I loved it. Instead of those cold sub-zero temperatures and icy roads that we Ontario runners have to contend with in January, I was facing warmer temperatures hovering just over 0, no more snow and no more ice. While our southern counterparts in Florida complained about the freeze they were feeling, I felt sorry for them but, deep down, I was delighted that they were getting our cold. Until Thursday night….
I should have realized that a rapid change in temperatures usually means windy runs. After the vegetable battle with the boys, I headed out for a 10K run, completely oblivious to my direction and that of Mother Nature’s. As I turned along the golf course, I realized that the last 4K were going to be brutal as I was heading North and, then, West – both apparently straight into the wind. By the time I got home, I was wiped.
Usually I don’t tire quite so easily but that night I certainly did. By 10:00, I was falling asleep while finishing work; the next morning, I woke up 1.5 hours late; I did not hesitate to get a plate-sized cookie at Starbuck’s later in the day.
And, every bite was worth the effort of running into the wind.
