...they kill us for their sport.
The gods of running are not without a sense of irony, it seems. When I ran Monday night in 25 degree weather, it was in preparation for the George Washington Birthday 10-K Race this Saturday. The weather reports were indicating that it was going to be in the mid to high 20s at race time, so I figured this week I'd get a couple of cold weather runs in so I wasn't completely shocked when I got out to the start line Saturday morning.
When I woke up Tuesday morning, I had a little scratch in the back of my throat. I fought the good fight for two days, but there were four people at work in the area where I sit that were sick, and last night it hit me full force. I am now sick enough that there is no way I am going to run in 25 degree weather in 36 hours.
So in trying to train myself to run in the cold, I got too sick to run in the cold. Irony so thick I could taste it...if I wasn't too stuffed up to not taste anything right now.   :)
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