I was up before sunrise on what I would call a popsicle-cold morning. The temp. was in the low 20s, with very little wind, so there was no "hammer of Thor" feeling in the air. Funny how you get acclimated to the, uh, climate. It was almost Miami-like, compared to the past week. Miami, Oklahoma, that is. Miami, Florida would be quite a reach, for sure, although I heard that they were Kansas City-cold there for a while. Two retirees were actually seen wearing long pants at noon in Boynton Beach. Oh, the horror!
I ran like an ice-wagon, to borrow an expression from my boss. I rumbled along, without grace or style, but I got where I was going, which was home. Unlike real ice wagons, which don't exist anymore, and went to people's tenement apartments, putting chunks of lake ice in their "ice boxes." Most lakes these days are too polluted to take ice from, even if the ice were only for cooling rancid sausage, and not putting into Grape Nehi, which I don't think exists anymore, either. I guess my boss' anachronism goes to show that he is the product of the last Great Ice Age, and I am a witless writer desperate for filler in my rancid sausage-quality blog.
Thanks for nearly humoring me.
The stats: 6miles in 49:57, or 8:20/mile. (That would be a world record for a one-legged 60 year-old man running backwards.)
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