Can I just say?

It’s really, really cold out there.

My optimism breaks down when I have more fingers on my hands than there are degrees of warmth, not even figuring in the wind chill. It’s the kind of cold that freezes doors shut, so that when you open them, they creeeeeeeeeeak with the sound of a million shattering ice crystals. It’s the sort of cold that creates shivers that start deep within you, as though your diaphragm is sending tremors outward. It’s a cold that makes most wise men and women say, “Heck with that, I’m not going anywhere today.”

Tomorrow morning is my regular running club meeting, so I don’t have that option. Oh, sure, I actually could stay inside and do a treadmill run, but giving myself the out now, before winter is even really upon me, doesn’t bode well for January, February, or March. I can’t get to April, the month before the marathon, before getting serious. It’s do now or die, baby.

But I look out there at the glistening surfaces all around, and I just whimper. I’m not built for this kind of weather, physically or mentally. I’m weak! I’m fragile! Somebody box me up and ship me to some moderate clime! I like tee-shirt weather, if you’d be so kind!

Please? Someone?

I guess no giant FedEx box is forthcoming. Good thing my upper lip is already halfway stiffened, albeit probably from frostbite damage. My nose is peeling, too, though I don’t know whether that’s from the wind and cold or from sunburn; I came back inside from a run last weekend with a bright red honker, and I have no clue which was the culprit. End result is the same, I suppose. I need some of that neon sunscreen that surfers and snowboarders slather on their noses; add that to my running ninja get-up, and won’t I just be the sexiest thing out there?

Polar bears use more than twice as much energy as other animals to move at any given speed, due to their size. They then eat four and a half pounds of fat a day to survive. That sort of feels like me these days: a whole lot of effort required just to get off my butt, and then the only things I want to eat are chocolate and Christmas cookies. The only difference between me and a polar bear these days is that the polar bear, unlike other bears, has no burning desire to enter deep hibernation for a chunk of the year. Silly polar bear.