With temperatures rising to 32 degrees and a rain-sleet storm heading in our direction – I had a mid-day window to get in my 10 mile run. I’m wearing my usual wintertime running outfit — long sleeve moisture wicking shirt, thin insulated jacket, lined sweat pants, wool socks, mittens and a bright orange cap. Born-n-raised in upstate NY, I should be able to handle 32 degree weather.
After the first 3 miles of hilly terrain – I had worked up some steam. Apparently not enough steam. I was passed by an older man wearing t-shirt and shorts. That’s right – wearing summertime clothing. The last I checked, it was still winter in Maryland. And he zoomed past me. So of course, I had to prepare myself in case he showed up again on my route. Perhaps I could go “summertime” too? I amped up the speed, and removed my jacket – tying it around my waist. Maybe I don’t need to dress like the Michelin woMan!
So, I rolled up my sweat pants – to above the knee. And suddenly, I had to run a LOT faster to keep warm. Like 60 seconds per mile faster. A gasping for oxygen type speed. For no apparent reason other than being passed by someone older than I who was wearing summertime clothing. And for the record – older people pass me all the time – so not sure why this runner got into my head!
By the time I finished my 10 miles – my lungs were exploding and my body was begging for relief. With all that heavy breathing, thankfully I didn’t run into the speedy older runner in T-shirt and shorts again. Funny what inspires.
I can now smile, as I did my best interpretation of wearing summertime clothing and running fast (er). And grateful for the runner who unknowingly helped me believe that I could find a tad more zest in my step.