For the past 8 years since I've been running, I've always considered myself a cold-weather runner. While I'm not crazy about the layers of clothes involved in 40 degree runs, there's no denying these runs are in some ways much easier then the oppressive, thick, humid runs of summer.
In cold weather, the lungs fling themselves wide and take in great gulps of crisp air that propel you forward. Sweat evaporates into the atmosphere instead of smothering you like a second skin. And you feel crisp, and faster.
I've never understood runners who said they prefer 90 degree temps for running. I assumed there was some sort of family lineage of mental illness and went out of my way to be kind to them. And yet...
When I've stepped outside the last few mornings (at 4:45 am to go to the gym so who's calling who crazy?) it's been on the brisk side. Not even close to cold, but just... not warm. And my reaction has been nothing short of horror. I don't want the cold weather to come back where it takes a mile of running before my toes begin to thaw. I don't want to haul out hats and scarves and arm warmers and hand warmers and gloves. I don't want to sit in my car until the very last few seconds before a group run starts in order to prevent frostbite.
All of this from 60 degree temperatures.
It's going to get ugly around here come wintertime.