The air has been biting for the last few days. It's the kind of cold you can taste. I love the way it feels to breath in the coldness when I'm running. Even though winter gets old very fast here in New England, I still couldn't live anywhere else. I'd miss that bite. I'd also miss the crunch of the snow beneath my feet. It's a very specific type of crunch. I remember going to Florida when I was in sixth grade--for only a week--and returning to Maine. Leaving the airport to get to the car after we'd returned I crunched over the snow, and I remember thinking, "ahh.... I missed that."
I was supposed to wait two weeks before resuming training. But I had a free hour today after work, and I just couldn't let it go. So I went out. The first 20 minutes felt fresh. The last 10 minutes I felt tired and wondered why I had hankered so much to get out there. It was weird for me to think that the last time I had run was on my race run at Worlds.
Not running for 12 days is a record of sorts for me. I haven't gone that long without a run since my youngest daughter was born--so basically 3.5 years. After she was born I told myself I'd never go longer than a few days without a run ever again. I ran through all of my pregnancies, but it gets hard toward the end, and you always end up with a few months of no real aerobic exercise.