Usually I run at least five times a week, and most of the times I complete them during the weekdays (i.e. weekends off). This week was slightly different.
I've been absurdly jetlagged, and this Tuesday I was in the same shape as a decapitated man and simply caved in skipped the run. And Friday was a gruel tired-day where I spent the entire day horizontal. But I knew I had to reimburse for the long lost runs this weekend.
I woke up piss-early today and geared up. Today was the long run. Then I looked outside. Blizzard. "But then again, how cold can it be", I brightly thought to myself and went out.
After five meters the snow drenched me and I froze to ice with every step I took, and the rest of the one-hour run was horrific.
Not the run itself, that went surprisingly well.
But my hands. I didn’t wear gloves and it proved to be my first poor decision of the day. When I returned I couldn’t even get my keys out and my brother had to open the door and attend to me.
The hot water I poured over my iced hands turned out to be the second poor decision and I knew amputation was close.
As luck turned out, I haven’t had to amputate and football is on the menu.
God bless ‘white’ weekends.
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