For the record: I am Really Really Sick of the WIND.
I just got in from another run - make that another "winter, freeze my ass off in the friggin' cold and blustery g*d damned wind". And I am paying for this [shout out to my coach, Matt L - the bane of my existence, the sysiphysian sadist who controls my universe - haha, just kidding).
Perhaps you sense my implied and oh-so-subtle annoyance, nay, frustration, with the weather lately.
As I wrote a few weeks ago, I really don't mind running in the snow, nor the wind. It is simply a reality of living in our climate. As an example, tonite, as I often do, I ran out on the Leslie Street Spit - where it was minus 25 (-25!!!) with the wind chill - quite doable, for sure; but, the wind was gusting at 30-35km from the NE - wicked [and might I add, not nearly as strong as, say, Hurricane Wilma* (see below) like it was last week, when the wind hit 65km from the north - cold, relentless and vicious; why was out there??]. Cold? Ya, and then some. Fun? Not so much.
(for those of you on whom droll wit is lost, this is NOT the same Hurricane Wilma I am referring to...).
But I digress - my point is, damn it, can we not have just one day without that wind ripping off the water? Just one run where I don't have to mentally sigh, knowing that the effortless pace heading out will be, at the turn around, a merciless pummeling that threatens the very core of my sanity. Just an easy windless day where I can focus on the run, listening to my breathing and music, not the freight train of the wind destroying my every nerve?
And, speaking of music, have you ever tried to listen to your tunes over the howling cacophony of the relentless wind thundering around you? You end up cranking the volume to the point where it is past the decibel level of a 747 landing 15 feet away from you - ya, really healthy for the long term good of your ears/hearing.
I have had so many runs this season in the wind, where it has reached epic proportions, that I have begun to think of the wind not as simply an air mass developed over the ocean or a mountain range thousands of kilometers away, but rather, as my arch nemesis, a foe to be conquered, an enemy to be wrestled to the ground and vanquished (I love "super hero" analogies - a work by-product!). I have taken an inanimate force of nature and in a sense, anthropomorphized it. So, I guess I don't run solo - I am always with my old friend, Mr. Wind.
And so, while I take no issue with the mantra that my old friend Billy H hammered home when we used to train for Ironman together, that the "wind is my friend", tonite, I wished had no friends. Tonite, I wished I had run without my friend the wind.
Running solo, sans wind...ah, just imagine.
And don't even get me started on the shrinkage - if you think George Castanza had issues, try running in minus 25 with tights...
run quiet
Johnny Boy
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