The temperature was supposedly around freezing this morning as we gathered at 8am for our Saturday run. While the temperature may have been milder than the past couple of weeks, it was the wind that sent me back to the car for more clothes and heavier gloves.
Although my vibrant yellow 2009 Resolution Run jacket may be described as being wind-proof polyester, I opted for covering it with a nylon sweat jacket for extra wind protection. There is some unwritten rule that runner's generate heat when running. Not this kid, I generate sweat, but no heat. I get chilled easily and then my hips tighten, my stride shortens, and I can't get moving after the inevitable pauses for traffic. I'm happiest bundled with however many layers it takes to keep me warm and toasty. Perhaps once we get past 20 km I'll change my philosophy but until that time I'm a lumbering laundry basket of warmth.
Since the temperatures have moved north of freezing the past couple of days, the sidewalks and roads were treacherous with frozen slush and slick patches of ice. Marc had an up and down day. The down looked like it hurt. Earlier in the week, my physiotherapist gave me a clean bill of health. My achilles fasciitis that has bothered my right heel for months seem under control with a regime of stretching and bimonthly ultrasounds. Rolling it on the goat path slush walks this morning would have been a major setback.
Kim led Victoria astray this morning by allowing the sleep deprived Tampa refugee to lead. Going out hard and fast (like usual), the Forest City Streak was out of earshot (whistle shot, and possibly gun shot) when the rest of the group followed the mapped course. The gazelles left on their own world tour while Marc, Bob, Jules and I stayed the course until we were blocked by one of those endless trains that cut the city in half from Adelaide to Talbot. Bob, the consummate Group Leader, paralleled the choo-choo and as we turned for the home stretch. On Richmond, the gates lifted, and we proceeded unabated to complete the 11.4 km in less than 60 minutes.
At the store, Victoria greeted us with the information that she had unintentionally misplaced Kim. When Kim arrived a few minutes later, sans St Bernard, realizing that perhaps her brilliant strategy of going out fast and ending up lost might need a little tweaking on subsequent runs.