Here’s the scene:  It’s Sunday morning. I wake up. Scott rolls over and pretends to ignore the fact that I’m awake (which means he’s gonna have to be awake shortly…). I check the temperature on my iPhone.

It reads: 24 degrees.

…um hello, that’s cold as sh*t, people. Where did that come from?? Just last week, it was a remarkable 50 degrees outside (and yes, I was stuck at work unable to enjoy said balmy weather, *rude*), but I digress.

I was determined to get a longer run in on Sunday. I knew that 24 degrees would sting like hell. So being the stubborn wise runner that I am — I decided to have breakfast first, to wait while it warmed up a bit.  <ohh irish oatmeal with chopped apples and peanut butter, I heart you so!>

It was about 34 degrees at 11:00. After a few tweets for motivation (thanks Sam, thanks Heather!), Scott and I bundled up and headed on out. At first, it felt awful. So cold. So NOT easy to do when the house we just left was warm, smelled like chili cooking in the crockpot, and the couch was begging for some attention.

But then, I started to take in the scenery. It was gorgeous out, chilly temps aside. Bright sunshine. Brilliant blue skies. Just a slight breeze. Crisp, cool, fresh air. I felt great – my legs were just humming right along, entirely too happy to be running, I thought to myself… And then, about a mile or two in, the goofy grin appeared <—sign of runner’s high building…

And we just ran. Covering portions of an old running route, and portions of a newer one to get us to about 7.5 miles. We ran mostly in silence. Scott was lost in his own world, just slightly ahead of me. And I was in mine. Soon, my mind wandered to the marathon next fall. I started to think about what it would feel like to cross that finish line, 26.2 miles later, and the goofy grin was back, in full effect this time.

Happy as ever, we pushed through the last mile as fast as we could…high-five’ing at the end. Whoa. My entire body just felt worked after that. Much more worked than it does on the treadmill…even when I do intervals. Which reminds me why I love, love, love running outside, and why I’ll be damned if I don’t get outside as much as I can this winter on the weekends.

I mentioned how worked I felt to Scott.
…that I never quite feel so spent when I run on the treadmill, no matter how hard I push.
…that the treadmill is “more mental than anything.”

To which Scott said:

“Well, then use the treadmill during the week to build that mental toughness. You’ll need it for the marathon.”

…such wise, wise words on a chilly Sunday afternoon rundate, don’t you think? But so, so true.

Note to self: Self? Please remember this next time you try to wuss out of a chilly rundate, mmk? You’re gonna need those “worked” runs just as much as you’ll need those “mental toughness” building runs this winter. Trust the process.