Not only will the break from the norm help me from falling into my usual pattern of doom and gloom, but it’s also difficult for Snow Miser to keep track of me if I mix things up a little and leave my comfort zone.
Anything that screws with Snow Miser is worth trying in my book.
I decided to heed the good doctor’s advice and venture out from the safety of The House on the Hill to go on an arctic adventure.
I mean, why not learn to enjoy the frigid weather, rather than shake and shiver at the mere thought of it?
Plus, I thought it would be cool to see some reindeer, penguins, and maybe even Santa Claus himself.
I know it’s Santa’s busy time of year, but he wears a FitBit, too, and he’s told me that he makes sure to get up and go outside every hour to get those 250 steps.
Today was the day for my journey.
After all, there’s no time like the present.
Plus, life has been a bit of a drag lately, and I needed a bit of living on the edge to get the circulation flowing again.
So I woke up well before dawn, bundled up, and went out to grab life by the snowballs.
Of course, what I really mean, is that I went for a run on a morning that the mercury could not inch past 14 degrees.
But psyching myself up by pretending I was going on an epic arctic adventure was how I tricked myself into getting my ass out from under the from covers, and out into the bitterly cold and unforgiving morning.
As I’ve said frequently, it is my intention to keep up my running program through the winter. With that in mind, I had to go for a run when it was only 14 degrees. The logic being that if I wimped out on November 28, how in the world was I going to convince myself to hit the road on January 28?
By January 28, Snow Miser will have totally found his groove, and Maine will be nothing more than his personal snow globe.
It was actually 15 degrees when I got out of bed. Snow Miser was clearly up to mischief by making it even colder by the time I walked out the front door.
Don’t fret. I hadn’t completely lost my senses.
I’ve come up with a mile long loop around the neighborhood with The House on the Hill at the center.
This way, I’m never more than three blocks from home, and can dash back to its heated confines in mere minutes should the weather ever freak the @#$% out.
Three miles is three miles no matter the path I take. I just wanted to get out and get done.
Truth be told, it wasn’t that bad. The bitter wind that has been whipping through the state for the past week was absent, so once I got my blood flowing, I was fine.
Yes, Modern Philosophers, it is possible to work up a sweat when the temperature is eighteen degrees below freezing.
The run was very empowering. I was proud of myself for not letting the weather intimidate me, and I felt like a bad ass for being outside on a morning when no one else dared to mess with the conditions.
I ran at a steady pace, covered 3.2 miles in no time, and was enjoying a hot shower even before the polar bears had awakened from their slumber.
I guess there’s just something about running that makes me feel more invincible.
Or as my friends like to say, maybe I’m just crazy for running so much and in such horrible weather.
I don’t care what the reason is. I just know that I went on an arctic adventure and lived to blog about it!