Just like the old days

Today's Run:

Distance: 6.29 miles

Time: 1:07:10

Pace: 10:40 per mile

This morning, it snowed. When I got home, it was raining on and off and it had "warmed up" to the upper 30s. The deck was covered in slush, so I assumed I was relegated to the treadmill for today's run. After 2 miles on the treadmill, however, I had to get outside. (Aside from the treadmill serving as a psychological torture machine, I've become convinced that I can't take a normal stride on that belt. I feel like I'm taking twice as many steps per mile and I can't get any forward momentum going.)

I put on a track jacket, but I left on my shorts. This turned out to be a bit of a mistake, because my legs were numb almost instantly. After a few minutes, I realized why the feeling was so familiar.

The last time I can remember experiencing this sensation, I was a middle school soccer player. In Oregon, the weather always turned before the season ended. This meant there were a few games at the end that were miserable. Little 70 pound me would put my hooded Dynamites sweatshirt on under my jersey and run around in the cold rainy mess for the entire game. I can remember that before the game and at halftime, I would pull my soccer socks all the way up to cover the exposed skin on my thighs. Meanwhile, my dad and Krista's dad were always standing on the sidelines in their matching coaching parkas. I would look over when Bart yelled "ANTICIPATE!" and see them in boots, jeans, and these parkas while I ran around trapping the ball, which felt like a giant frozen snowball, with the inside of my thigh. The imprint would stay on my leg for the rest of the afternoon.

Why didn't we ever think to wear leggings under our shorts and shinguards? I KNOW we all had them.

Donations Update:

Thanks Vickie! I know how long it takes to make that amount as a college student. : )