Leading into the Hypo Half I’d argue that fate was conspiring against me.
Not only is the run traditionally the coldest race of the year, frequently tanking temperatures measuring in the low sub-zero teens, or colder, but the conditions are iffy at best. A cold winter run, a river-valley-view neighbourhood street with a base of snow and ice, a cold wind blowing off the frozen river valley, and nothing driving you forward save for the thought of a buffet brunch at the finish line.
Top that off with the consideration that my training hadn’t gone exactly as planned. I spent most of January sick and still I have this lingering cough that I can’t seem to shake. I’d run about half as much as I would have liked, completed but a single long training run, and didn’t do any of the other supplementary building such as hills, speed training, or whatever.
Oh, and then we were out of town for the day yesterday, at a birthday party for my dad eating pizza and straining my calves crouch-walking around the shallow swimming pool, and then eating some cake and ice cream before driving home in the pitch of night to get a restless night of sleep.
Fate was prodding me.
But I got up at six, ate, caffeinated, dressed, drove (stopping half way to pick up Lynda) and we skittered our way across the ice towards the start line.
And then the temperature wasn’t too bad.
And the streets were not clear, but they weren’t too bad either.
And the wind gusted a few times, but it wasn’t worth complaining about.
And the company was great.
And the sun came out.
And we ran.
Our first half marathon of the year (and Cody’s first half race ever) and our times were so-so but we had modest expectations, and cute finisher medals, and then we ate brunch, took lots of silly photos and dranks lots of coffee before we called it a success and went home to rest