I don’t love the cold (although it’s much preferable to the wet) but I do like the opportunity to swear thick thick socks.
The rest of the year your feet would get far too hot, but now those socks that are almost thick enough to stand up on their own can be dragged out of the back of the drawer and worn inside your winter boots. Or just worn around the house instead of slippers.
My fleece dressing gown doesn’t get worn much, either, except on freezing winter mornings, but I think that’s another blog…
I didn’t want to, not yet, but I feel I have no choice. The central heating has been turned on. I tried to put off this moment by wearing a thick jumper and drinking lots of hot tea, but the flat was just horrible this morning so I turned the heating on.
I’ve got the thermostat turned down low for now. We had a new combi boiler fitted recently, so I’m hoping to see some lovely low bills this year.
When I started running, there was a cold snap, it went down to minus six celsius for a couple of days, apparently. I didn’t let this put me off. Call it stubbornness, call it stupidity, but I carried on running.
So when on a day like this, when it is maybe minus two, I find it hard to give up. It’s because I know I have jogged in worse, in snow and ice, in laughably unsuitable running gear. So I would have no excuse to not run today.