A few weeks ago, I signed up for my first race in over two years: the Broad Street run, a Philadelphia staple, or so I hear. I had two hesitations before submitting my name into the lottery — and while you’ll have to take my word on it, believe me when I say that I thought long and hard.
1. It’s been so long since I’ve trained for a race. Would I like it again?
2. 10 miles! I haven’t “run long” in forever. Sure, this isn’t, like, a marathoner’s “run long” but for me, 10 miles is a lot. Not even when Noah trained for the New York City Marathon did I run that far. Sure, I like to accompany him during training, and yes, it makes me run for an extended period of time. But the longest I ran during his training period was 8 miles or so. That was back in August. And even though I have four half marathons under my belt, 10 miles at this juncture feels like forever. FOR-EV-ER.
So anyway, I figured the more I sat around thinking about it and repeating lines from The Sandlot, the more likely I would be to psych myself out. I pulled the trigger not longer after this contemplation, and a few week’s later, I was admitted into the race. Let’s just take a moment to point out that Noah did not get picked. The likelihood of getting chosen for the Broad Street run is over 85%, yet he was picked for last year’s NYC marathon, which is what, like a .05% chance?
Anyway, just as I started to get excited about training, the weather went south. For the last couple of weeks, it has been absolutely freezing here in Philly — the mornings have hardly risen above 15 degrees.
Instead of running, my mornings have looked like this.
Seabass has a thing for Jillian Michaels. She seriously can’t get enough of these videos, which makes it very hard to get anything done.
Fortunately, it was a little bit warmer on Saturday morning. Finally. A whopping 18 degrees, in fact.
As I lay in bed Saturday morning debating whether or not to run, I continually looked at my phone, refreshing my weather app, thinking that if the temperature would increase just 1 degree — one measly degree! — I’d get up. Of course, that didn’t happen. And of course, I went out anyway. At the very least, it was sunny and bright, and even that was a big step up from what it has been.
To stay toasty, I layered up. Thick leggings with ski socks (my secret winter running weapon). Under Armour, hoodie, and a thick North Face puffy vest. Gloves and 180’s were part of the equation too, as was Elton John.
Although the air wasn’t warm, underneath all my layers, I certainly was. And I was happy I forced myself out the door. Just look at the views.
To reward myself for five frigid miles after a night on the town, I spent the rest of the afternoon reading, hanging out in bed, watching movies, painting ceramics (indeed, you read that right), drinking wine, and slow cooking turkey tacos. By the time dinner rolled around, the sky was illuminated…
…and I enjoyed a feast.
I was in bed before 11 on Saturday night, and it felt freaking magical. This week is supposed to be warmer — in the 30’s tomorrow morning, following today’s ice storm. Countdown starts now to the Broad Street run on May 3rd. I can only hope that Mother Nature gives me two beautiful months of training.