For the past few days, it has been cold. Like, freezing-nose-hairs cold. And oddly enough, I’ve actually wanted to go for a run, but not enough that I would risk frostbite.

Today is the first day since, I don’t know, Monday, that it hasn’t been in the single digits or below zero (sometimes double digits below zero). It’s actually a balmy 22 degrees out! Finally! So I put on some layers and went for a run. Yes, there’s still a lot of snow on the ground, so I ran in the street on side streets, where there was less snow. But still snow.

22 degrees is still pretty chilly, especially when the wind blows. But it felt good to move. I could always go to the gym, but I really hate the gym. It smells like sweat, and I hate having to pack my gym bag in the morning, then go after work, change in front of strangers, and then sit on a treadmill or elliptical machine, breathing stinky, sweaty air, picking wedgies in front of the stranger behind me on the stationary bike. I would rather run in snow and 22 degree cold.

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