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.