In The Bleak Midwinter

In the bleak midwinter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter,
Long ago.

That's how I felt when I went running this afternoon. It was about 15 degrees and there was an evil wind coming from the west which sliced through my thermal pants like a hot knife through warm butter. My chin turned into a chunk of rubber and drippy snot froze in my nose. Nonetheless, I chugged my way (into the wind) through six repeats of the hill near my office. When I run these hill repeats, I cannot help but wonder what people who drive by me are thinking, especially the ones who see me turn around and head back the way I came at the top or bottom of the hill. What on earth would drive a person to push her body up and down the same quarter-mile stretch of pavement over and over? Especially when it's so bitterly cold?

The Boston Marathon, people. Boston is looming in less than 12 weeks. It's late January and mid-April is only 11 weeks away. In 11 weeks I will actually be in Massachusetts, visiting my alma mater on a personal Nostalgia Tour before getting down to business. The business of running one of the world's premier marathons. Me, the fat chick who still weighed almost 200 pounds three years ago and could barely run 3 miles at once.

I've come a long way, baby.