It was 48 degrees and pouring rain out. The rain never stopped and I never saw the sun. I wore my windbreaker, long tights, and a cap to keep the rain off of my glasses. I didn't think I needed gloves, figuring I would warm up quickly. But I never did. My hands were freezing and I was soon soaked through to the skin. I could not avoid running through deep mud puddles, in my open-mesh shoes which allowed every droplet of water through to my socks and feet. But I kept going.
I saw few people at first, and enjoyed the lack of traffic, but eventually more hardy souls emerged. The joggers mostly listened to their iPods and ignored me, but I got some looks from the pedestrians bundled up in their rain gear. Even some of the dogs I saw had little raincoats on. On the way back one woman openly said she admired what I was doing, which felt good, especially as that was just before I was to tackle the Hyde Street hill. I still could not run up that damn thing, but I made it to the top without slowing to a complete crawl.
Roundtrip of 7.87 miles in one hour and 55 minutes, for a slow 14.6 minutes/mile. Whatever - completing that distance in this weather was an accomplishment. I did my 9/1 run/walk intervals, except on that hill, and my legs didn't really tire at all. I was just cold and wet, and I felt like my hands were getting frostbitten.
Coming home, I could barely turn the key in the lock. boyziggy had to help me get undressed, and ran a shower for me and got me hot towels and heating pads. "Why the hell did I do this?" I said. "I'm proud of you," he said. I'm proud of me too. And I love my husband. And I'm going to keep on doing this, damnit.