I really didn’t want to go running today, but after E visited last week and convinced me to go for a run, I figured that it would be lacking in integrity to not at least repeat the run the following weekend. I know that make no sense, it’s the sort of crazy internal dialogue you experience when you’re trying to convince yourself to go running and it’s so cold outside you can barely breathe.

I did exactly the same course, since I assumed I would have a feel for how hard it would be, what with my having done this last week and all. Boy was I wrong.

When I got down on the right bank of the river to start running, the first thing I noticed was a really cold headwind that was actually making it more difficult to run because it was strong enough to push back at me. When I say really cold, I mean it cut through my Gore-Tex jacket, my t-shirt and my thermal exercise shirt. It gave me a cold headache, I lost feeling in my ears and my eyes started to water like I was auditioning for a part in a Hollywood tragedy. The first 3 km were very painful indeed.

Then I crossed the bridge and did the quick run through the Jardin des Plantes, which was the nicest bit of the entire run, because it was protected from the wind and there were other people there. Everything’s relative, and upon seeing all the families going for walks covered from head to toe in designer arctic-wear, it became gradually clear that it wasn’t all that much warmer here than out on the towpath, just fractionally less windy. I also began to realise that I had no choice but to finish the run at a fair speed if I didn’t want my body temperature to drop like a stone the second I slowed to a walk.

Finally, on the way back, braving the urine-infested towpath of the left bank, the wind was at my back, which eased both the cold and the difficulty running a little. My ears still felt like they were going to fall off though. I finally made it to the end in 45 minutes, climbing the steps to the pavement with the energy of someone who knows this last effort is all that lies between him and a hot shower. I sat on one of the benches on the bridge catching my breath for a few seconds while bemused tourists walked past in shapeless layers of clothing adorned by colourful scarves, small red noses pointed in my direction as they tried to figure out what this sweaty person was going on the bridge in so few layers. It didn’t take long before I started walking home.

Once home, after a shower, I was so lethargic I almost fell asleep – at one in the afternoon. Something about the temperature change does that to me. I ended up going to keep a friend company while he prepared the first 2 of 9 courses for the Thinksgiving dinner he’s throwing, but I think I was probably not the best company in my dream-like state.

I can train here through the winter, but this cold is going to require better equipment. Gloves and a hat, for example. If the temperature stays this low, I don’t know how I’ll manage to motivate myself to run through December and January.

6.5km, 45m36s, HR 157 (incl. pauses).