I’ll sum it up. I had barely slept. My stomach was hosting a butterfly convention. And I couldn’t eat more than a few bites of my breakfast.
Couple the fact that I haven’t run a half marathon in seven months with the bitter truth of an ambient outdoor temperature of minus twenty degrees, and I was second — third — ten times guessing my decision to tackle the Hypothermic Half Marathon this past weekend.
I mean, ultimately it turned out okay.
It was brutally cold, but I managed to over-dress.
The icy roads were not my friend, but I didn’t slip much and never fell, just mostly trudged along on the slick and slided a bit with each step and because of that lost a good 10 – 15% of my energy to the lack of traction.
The company helped. It’s tough to speak much when your face is alternatingly wrapped up in fabric or frozen and numb, but I ran a chunk with Leon and then a chunk with Linda and then another chunk with Leon. Jenn was on medal duties. Ron was guarding the buffet. And I crossed paths with a dozen other people –from past running pals, to Strava followers who I only know online, to the Premier herself who passed me at the start and never looked back — all who helped keep the slushy thoughts from freezing solid into my brain.
In the end it wasn’t my fastest race –far from it, actually– but I’m feeling pretty warmly about how this chilly adventure turned out overall… and I think it’s inspired me to sign up for a few more halfs this coming year.