A long run and hot cup of rose green tea later and that dry lump that forms in the throat before a cold hits is gone for now. Point for me. Yesterday was my first day running solo while my boyfriend travels for the week. His absence was noted immediately and in many ways, starting with the night he left.
As usual, I read in bed propped up on big pillow before turning out the light. After a while of lying in the dark tired, but wide awake, I realized I was still propped up. He wasn’t there to remove the big pillow, so I was basically trying to sleep sitting up. Why is this pillow still here? Because the pillow doesn’t magically remove itself. That’s why.
I thought the real test would be getting myself outside every day. Yesterday, I checked the forecast online before going out for a run. The weather keeps straddling the layer zone – sometimes mesh pants are fine, but 5 degrees cooler and I need two layers. The forecast promised three hours before rain, so I’m patting myself on the back for waking up early enough for a dry run. Reality proved otherwise as soon as I stepped out the door to a steady drizzle. Despite the drops hitting my head, my brain insisted it wasn’t raining. Nope! Not for three more hours.
Halfway through, the rain stopped so the morning could squeeze in some tiny bits of fast-falling ice that felt like hail’s angry little sister. Had the forecast said hail, I may not have gone. So I’m thinking the weather peeps are really just running coaches in disguise. Their so-called blue skies just before it rains is enough to get me out the door with more urgency in each step.
Good things come to those who run in the cold, provided you’re not too tired to cook. I made myself black bean soup with avocado and tomato rice. In the process, I may have accidentally let a piece of plastic tie fall on the burner and catch fire which then blackened the wooden cutting board before I noticed the toxic smell of plastic melting. If my boyfriend asks why the cutting board smells like a fire place, the story is we were visited by a hungry ghost dragon who blessed my fine soup with a firey kiss. He’ll be so jealous.