Cold

JE's comment as we finished our run tonight was poignant, "Why is it that 48 degrees feels colder than 48 degrees here? In Utah, 48 degrees is nothing!" I was shaking by the time I got into the car. Thank goodness for heaters! Even still, my lips were blue by the time I got home.

Earlier in the day, I made a huge pot of borscht with far more beef than would be found in any authentic Russian soup. But it was so good and nourishing, accompanied by a good dark Russian sour bread. The bread was a far cry from the black heavy loaves speckled with bits of seeds, nuts and raisins that I had up north, but still delicious. Especially after a solid 10 mile run.

Ten miles.

JE keeps asking me if I ever dreamed that someday I'd be running 10 miles with so little effort. I wanted to smack him when he asked that. My run tonight was such hard work, so much effort for me to keep going. If it hadn't been so damn cold, I think I would have walked a lot more often. But it was cold, so to keep from hypothermia, I ran.

Some days are just stronger than other days.

JE has an effortless ability to just keep going, to run and not seem to feel it. Some days, he runs circles around me, literally. But match us on a pool or on a distance bike ride, and I can kick his trash.