This morning I was greeted by the first flurries of the season, the type the alternate between an icy drizzle and a flake. It was barely enough snow to be noticeable, but it did provide notice that winter is on its way. As a summer loving type of gal this is the exact opposite of spotting a robin, seeing that first green bud on the tree. Soon I will need to batten down the hatches, spend more time in the warmth and artificial light of the gym.
I have not been running at all this week, mostly due to pet-sitting duties and recovery from a heavily activitied weekend. Yesterday I suited up in my warmest running clothes and headed out to the Highland Park reservoir, with the intention of doing laps. After one in the cold and dark I decided to call it quits, I could feel the tired in my spirit and the area was mostly deserted, which left me feeling fairly unsafe. I trusted my instinct and headed off to get pizza instead.
Cold weather running can be exhilarating, a triumph over the elements, acclimating and warming up despite all the bitterness mother nature doles out. It also takes more energy and fortitude, cups of coffee afterward and cozy hibernating naps. Making peace with the winter is not easy task, but the rewards are more than worth it.