By February 2012, I had moved to Kearney, NE.  On a particularly cold evening in February – we’re talking single digits – I thought:

“Man, its crazy cold outside.  I should totally go out and run.  That would be nuts.”

So, out I went.  I strapped on some old trail running shoes I had around for hiking and general outdoor use – some old Nike Alvords.  I put on a beanie, cotton long-johns, sweat-shirt, gloves, and hit the road.  It was cold.  The frigid air hurt my lungs – made me cough.  And, my long-johns had lost all elastic in the waistband (very old ones from snowboarding days) and kept on falling down, sagging in the crotch, and pulling my shorts down with them.  Very embarrassing.

I think I made it 2 miles, and that included a lot of stopping to walk.

On Facebook I wrote,”I am not a runner. I abhor running. Yet, for some reason, I found myself outside in 28 degree weather running tonight. What is wrong with me?!“

I was sore for the next week.  But I kind of liked it.