Running in a Winter Wonderland

I just came home from a 6.5 mile run. It was dark and 19° outside. When I got home, my thighs were the brightest shade of red I've ever beheld on my own skin. My feet were wet, my hair was wet, and when I sat on the toilet, I almost fell off because my legs were numb.

But...

I LOVED IT.

I was worried that I'd run less in the winter months and lose some of my ability, but I've actually been running more. If there's a snow storm, I am all the more excited to get out and run because the air is fresh, and I love the clean look of the white snow. I love the way it feels under my feet when it is powdery and new. 

It helps that I have some friends who are willing to participate in the craziness*.

It also helps that running in the snow gives me a good excuse to go slow (I'm not a fast runner, and I really don't see myself ever being fast). 

Also, I haven't fallen on my butt yet. That's a perk.

The only issue I have with winter running is the bad air - I live in a valley, and we get horrible inversion here. After a few days of poor air, my throat and lungs burn, and I feel like there is a weight on my chest. And that's without running. I do myself a favor and stay out of the muck as much as possible. But when the storms hit, I get outside.

I hope you didn't think this post was actually going somewhere. I just wanted to say that I love running in the winter. 

(Sidenote: I just had to make a blog label for "running." Who is this person? If 28-year-old Britt knew that 30-year-old Britt would do such a thing, she would have tsk-tsk-ed).

*One had to warm up to the idea. The first time I dragged her out running through slush and ice, I thought she was going to kill me.