Cold

At 9 o’clock this morning it was still cold. How cold? This cold……

Now for you Canadian readers I realise this is not cold by your standards and yes I have gone soft, but it is cold by UK standards, and it is cold for a run.
Madam joined me on the slippy village paths for 1.5 miles before I headed off for a long run of undecided length. Undecided due to the fact that I wanted to see what it was like under foot on the lanes before going too far from home. I had a couple of Jane Torvill type moments and managed at one point to perform an excellent Lutz jump that I am sure would have scored a perfect 6, but it really was not as bad as expected.
So that excuse could not be used, I had no choice other than to plod on. Scenery great

temperature decidedly chilly. At mile six my legs began to complain about the cold. I ignored them.
At 10.5 miles I came to this

due to this

now I am not one of those serious runners who jogs on the spot waiting for the lights to change to red at Pelican crossings, no you will find me relishing standing still, gasping for breath, holding my sides. Today however I realised that if I stood still waiting for the train to pass then I would have to call hubby to bring the jump leads to get me going again, so instead I paced.
Home half a mile later pleased to have extended my long run.

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