“Okay. I’m going to go outside and be really cold for a while,” I call to my roommate as I pull the door closed.
Tugging on a pair of gloves, and tugging a scarf around my neck, I step out into the weekend’s snowfall. Roughly four inches of powder, slush and ice cover the sidewalk, street, yards and cars on my street. One of the piles of snow contains my car, but I am determined to make it out to the track.
It isn’t until I make it two or three blocks away, and am skidding across a sheet of ice, that it occurs to me: the track is probably not clear. Considering the condition of the track after the last snowfall, I was starting to have concerns about my actual run. To cut a long story short, I didn’t run.
The track itself was covered in the same hard-packed crust that made up most of the well-walked, but not cleared, sidewalks. Simply walking up the hill to the track, I slipped and skittered in more than a few places. I took one wary look at the ice floes forming on the surface of the reservoir, and decided today was not a day for running.
My goal was to get through the C25k program before the snows made it impossible to run, and in that respect, I succeeded. However, I didn’t want to make the trip out to the track in vain. I was there, I was wearing gloves and a scarf, and had even worn my headlamp all the way from my apartment (I got it at Target for $5, in the “Men’s Gifts” section. I feel like I look silly, but it does the job, doesn’t slip or bounce, and was inexpensive). I didn’t want to tromp home without doing something.
So, I walked.
About halfway around the track, as I approached False Corner Cover, my Fitbit watch buzzed to let me know I had made my 10,000 step goal for the day. Over my headphones, my phone switched from playing Death Cab for Cutie to Minus the Bear. The reservoir was serene, silent, and empty.
I passed one person perched on a bench in the cold, and nodded a greeting. There were no zombies today, there were no missions, there was no running. Just a quiet, dark night, and the promise of a hot tea when I got home.
So, I feel like I will be taking a break from running–at least until the track is clear, or I find a better location in he meantime–but I will still go out there. I don’t want to break the habit of exercise, but I don’t want to break my neck. Even slowed down, heading out is better than doing nothing.