When I set out on my 8 mile run yesterday morning, it was 17 degrees out. I didn’t even look at the windchill. I didn’t want to know. It was beautiful out, but so, so cold. So I wore layers. Coach says I have to run outside on the weekend unless it’s armageddon. I’m not sure what armageddon is, exactly, but this clearly wasn’t it.
Layer 1: Sports bra, knee-high compression socks
Layer 2: Running tights, short sleeved running top, shoes
Layer 3: Sparkle Skirt (to add a layer over my butt), fleece-lined long sleeved shirt
Layer 4: Gloves, neck warmer thing, knit cap
Layer 5: Thicker running jacket, sunglasses
Seems like a lot, but I definitely didn’t overheat at any point on my run. In fact, I could feel which parts of my body were the least covered (most notably the space between my skirt shorts and the tops of my socks. My poor knees.
It was certainly not a fast run. Probably the slowest run in a long time, not because I was running like a kid stuffed in a snowsuit, but because the trail was just snow covered enough that I had to be careful with my steps. Still, it was nice to be out there in the sun and fresh air. And I certainly wasn’t the only crazy person out there.
Then I got home, showered, ate, struggled to get warm, and didn’t warm up til I got in the car to head to the grocery store and turned the seat warmer up to high. Lesson learned – after a cold run, get in the car and drive somewhere to help defrost my butt.