This morning it was hard getting going. Normally, I’m up early and ready to go. This week I’ve been sleeping in, my version of a vacation since we don’t get a break over the holidays. I finally got out of bed a little after 8. The wind was howling. The snow was blowing. The actual temperature was around 32. Who knows what the windchill was? I felt there was no way I was going to get my five miles in today. I just didn’t have it in me.
I got dressed and got onto Facebook, procrastinating. I sat for over half an hour. I could hear the wind whipping outside. I hate the cold. I’m not a runner. I absolutely did not want to do this today. But, I put on my hat, my gloves, my jacket and I opened the door. The sidewalks were covered with ice. With all of the hills in our neighborhood, it would be treacherous. I read this morning about an ex-NFL player on vacation with his family. He slipped, hit his head, and died. Freak accident. So, as I’m negotiating the icy sidewalks, I’ve got that playing in my head.
I hit my first split on my walk and my software announced my pace. It is about as slow as I’ve gone, but I couldn’t speed up due to the ice. Maybe once I hit the flat, I can pick up the pace a bit. But, as I hit the flat, I started noticing how my feet were sore, my calves were tight, I had tweaked my hamstring. The wind was still howling. I was less than a mile into the walk and I wanted to turn back for home and crawl under the covers. But, I pressed on. One mile. Then, two miles. I never picked up the pace. Slow and steady today. Today, that is all I have. Just get the miles in and forget about the pace.
Finally, five miles and I’m headed up the hill back to the house. Today wasn’t a stellar day on the road, but I got it done. Sometimes, that’s the best we can hope for.