Inner Monologue, Outer Wear

The morning began with a clash of titans. A Herculean feat lay before me as the alarm went off, my phone providing some illumination in an otherwise pitch black room. It was 6:15 a.m., and I was going to have to get out of bed if I was going to get my run in before work.

On the other hand, part of me chimed in, imagine how great it would be to just fall asleep again. You could get at least another hour in before having to get up and go to work. Plus, it’s going to be cold out there

These thoughts continued as I dragged myself out of bed, reheated some slightly disappointing overnight oatmeal I made earlier in the week, and sat back in my bed, eating it out of a bowl perched on a borrowed George R.R. Martin book. I have been on a crock pot kick ever since I discovered how easy and tasty Jook is; but took some liberties with Alton Brown’s recipe, which didn’t seem to pan out.

It’s dark now, and it will be just as dark after work. You could go back to bed and run after work, same result.

A fair point, although I knew it was getting lighter. In the time it took me to finish my breakfast and don my gloves, shoes, and extra layers, the sun was also getting out of bed and starting to do its job. By the time I had finished my stretches, light was starting to filter into my living room. By the time I was outside, it was bright enough to avoid most of the frost which had formed overnight.

It may have been lighter, but it was still really cold. As I hit the Sisyphus hill, I started wondering if this was how cars felt when forced to start going from the cold. All of my joints felt padded, like I was getting 10 percent less out of them. The breath froze in my throat. My ears burned as my knit cap started slipping up and off of them. I regretted not wearing a scarf, and was already starting to think about turning around and going home.

I pressed on, and eventually my combination of body heat and proper attire (two layers of socks: key) caught up with me.

At the end of the day, I made it as far as I did on Monday, feeling a little like I could have gone for another block or so, but still satisfied–pushing yourself is for when you have time and it’s not so cold, my ignored inner monologue added bitterly. I was inclined to agree.

Throughout all of this, my mind remained largely blank. A relief, as my return to the house signaled a return to reality. The stresses and disappointments of the past weeks quickly overtook the otherwise pleasant sensation of finishing a run.

I sat on the T, feeling like I had started my day with a cocktail of one part arctic vacation, and one part addictive substance–and that I was now disappointed with the what was left. While there are worse things to be a junky for, it does worry me when I start using anything for escapism.

Shirt of the Day: Long-sleeved grey shirt. Boring.
Today’s Odd Pickup: Key item, a Cryo Tag? (Will likely learn its purpose in a later mission.)

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2 thoughts on “Inner Monologue, Outer Wear

  1. Pingback: Breaking the Ice | The Unsure Runner

  2. Pingback: Why I Walked | The Unsure Runner

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