Run below zero

End of week  one of the plan... mediocre to say the least. It's easy to run when you're in, oh, I don't know, Georgia, and the weather is at least tolerable. And then you return to the tundra of the high plains (no, no need to remind me I chose to live here).

I ran four of the seven days I was in the ATL for Christmas, including on the Sunday after Christmas with my brother-in-law Kevin and my nephew Ryan. Kevin has finished two Ironmans and a bunch of marathons with a PR in the neighborhood of 3:32. Ryan is 12 and has a 22-minute 5K. As I later found out, after covering 3.5 miles in 26 minutes (7.42.6/mile, if you were wondering), Ryan doesn't understand the concept of running with people. He stayed about 10 yards ahead the whole time, and my efforts to bring him back failed miserably. To put it another way, that little shit tried going Prefontaine on us.

I was reminded of a scene from the Pre movie that starred Jared Leto. In this scene Pre is blowing his teammates away in practice when a teammate pulls up alongside him and says, "Hey, there's no racing in practice." Pre replies, "Then don't race me."

Anyway, I've run twice since my return to the high plains. The first time was on New Year's Day and the second was today. Hmmm... not sure I can call them runs. I went out the door in running clothes and moved for 34 minutes on New Year's Day, followed by an hour and 20 minutes today. Both times I stumbled over to the Laramie River Greenbelt, a nice enough place to run. On New Year's Day I struggled with the wind, lungs and cold, but today I just struggled with the cold and my own lungs. Per the NOAA Web site it was about 4 degrees with a slight breeze when I ran today, and ice formed on my eyelashes and eyebrows. That's a new one for me.

At this point I hope it gets easier soon. Seriously, it was hard enough to breathe the cold air by itself, and then add the polypropylene baclava I wear over my face to warm said air — not fun by any stretch. To put things in perspective, I have an 18-mile run in five weeks and today I struggled through roughly six. 

When I lived in Cheyenne, I'd say it took a month of regular workouts before I was used to the altitude (1,000 feet lower than Laramie), but it doesn't change the fact that I wish I could breeze through these base-building runs. I already feel like I'm cramming for a midterm the night before.