So today I spent several hours freezing my ass off at the track, waddling around like a penguin with my arms held stiffly at my sides, refusing to take my hands out of the over sized sleeves of my varsity jacket. But in the end, when it was finally time for the 800, my race went by surprisingly fast and when it was all over I sat down, put on my sweats, and replaced those dreadfully toe-squishing track spikes with my worn out, comfortable uggs. It was a good feeling.
On the car ride home, I couldn't stop coughing after running around in the cold for so long, yet I sang with Leona Lewis at the top of my lungs. And as I drove past the rows of houses, amazed at each one's sparkling Christmas lights, I felt warm, and relieved, and content. And when I got back home my mom made me hot apple cider with cinnamon and I sat there sipping my steaming mug while listening to a piano cover of Just The Way You Are. So Amy, to answer your question - "Why do you run? Why would you do winter track?!" - I guess it's for moments like these.
