Originally hailing from the Windy City, I'm not what you would call 'accustomed' to 50-degree January afternoons. Subzero temps, sloppy sleet (only when not hailing, naturally), and massive winds? Streets and sidewalks so covered in slush and salt even my dog doesn't want to go outside? That's January, through and through. So when the universe decides to gift me with a warm spring day in the middle of winter, as it did yesterday, I feel downright guilty for not taking advantage of it.
Since dog hasn't gotten a good run in a few weeks, I decided to take him out for a spin. Although the sun had set by the time we got out of the house, there was a nice warm breeze and enough moisture in the air to make me think of proper Spring [random aside: what is it with people and the word 'moist'? You find some who shudder at the mere thought of the word. And if you ask them about it, the only real defense they can ever give is that the phrase 'moist panties' is downright cringe-worthy. Oh, so your first association with this arbitrary word is B-level romantic literature? Because mine is with delicious baked goods. Who wants a dry brownie? No one. Ever.
Clearly it's 'damp' you should be avoiding. When is 'damp' ever a good thing? Damp socks are the worst, damp towels probably mean you're cleaning, and damp pants? Sorry you were running late and had to get dressed before everything took its proper turn through the drier. Not the best way to start your morning, am I right?
/rant.]
What's even better is I actually remembered to time myself properly this time! Well, sorta. According to my watch, Dog and I covered 6.5 miles in 61 minutes. Not too bad, especially considering there were a myriad of stoplights and an inquisitive dog 'forcing' me to take breaks. I'd say there was easily 2-3 minutes of downtime, so I'm giving myself a pace under 9:00/mile, which I'm perfectly content with. Dog seemed to enjoy it too, though he was definitely slacking towards the end...
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