Coming in from my run outside yesterday, I promised myself that that would be the last outdoor run of the season; my ears were tingling, my toes were numb and I found myself gasping to let in another mouthful of air. Considering I opted in for a “light” run which meant 4-5 km through residential uptown and then into the trails before circling round, I was shocked at how weak I felt as I walked through the front door! It felt more like my first run back after a tropical holiday than a jog that followed shortly in the footsteps of my first time ever winning a race (I was the first female to cross the finish line of the 5 Km “Santa Shuffle” at the beginning of December) and runs of 10 km + during my visit to Vancouver just weeks before (read more about discovering Vancouver, step by step here).
Yet here I was – three weeks later, doubled over wondering why the hell anyone would ever run outside during winter in Canada? And then (after convincing from many a friend that winter is, in fact, the best season to run outdoors) it hit me. It’s not the weather that is the problem with running in the wintertime; it’s me. I have been guilty of the three cardinal sins of winter running: indulgence, sloth and stupidity… read on.