This weekend saw a return of brutally cold temperatures, with a wind so bitter, piercing, and constant that I did not feel ashamed to spend most of it indoors.
Friday night was Math and Science night at Little Boy’s school. We went from 20 degree chill on the way to school to the steamy, stifling confines of his school cafeteria, packed with scores of elementary school kids and their parents. Even if I could breath, I don’t think I wanted to.
Saturday morning I put in 3 sub-zero wind chilled hours repeatedly hiking the steep slopes of Prospect Hill Park. I motivated myself through the painful numbness of my cheeks (both sets!) by reminding myself how much more torturous Prospect Hill was in the hot, humid, buggy month of July. Midway through the 10.5 mile/3800 ft. gain hike, I attempted to drink from my soft-flasks and discovered the water in the nozzle froze solid.
Arriving home, Little Boy was just arriving from Saturday morning music school and getting ready for fencing, which he enjoys.
I spent the rest of my afternoon in a hot yoga class. It was my first hot yoga class in nearly 4 years, although for the past 3 months I have been taking non-heated yoga classes at a small studio near my house, so although I did sweat a literal bucket, I was able to hold my own. There was a point in time when I did a borderline insane amount of yoga, and though I’ll never return to that 90-minute a day routine, I do find a lot of benefits of doing it 2 times a week. My hips no longer feel as tight and taunt as frozen bubble gum.
Sunday morning, 3 more hours of running, this time along the blustery banks of the Charles River. I survived 18 miles at 8 degree (feels like -4) weather. Then Little Boy and I made a pizza.
I had ambitions of taking Little Boy outside in the afternoon, but I couldn’t muster the enthusiasm to muster his enthusiasm. Spring is still a ways off, and this hostile cold coming after a week of relative warmth is even crueler. But it does make it quite satisfying to huddle and cuddle inside.