I ran the Cotton Row course again this morning.
It was supposed to be about 14 degrees.
He was wrong.
It was 22 when I looked at my meter on the porch at 5:45 this morning.
And no wind that I could see.
In an exercise in bravery, I dressed in only two layers, top and bottom.
That would prove to be a bit thin for the circumstances.
It was so cold as I was walking from my car to the start point that I started running before I got there.
I had not gone a quarter mile before I found that, while there was no wind at my house/neighborhood, there was some downtown, three miles away.
But it was too late to go back; I was committed to this party.
The only way to get warm while running, is to run.
So I ran.
By the end of mile two I was feeling better (meaning warmer).
And there was less wind in the neighborhoods than along the downtown streets.
By mile three, I was getting a little sweat on my hands, which were ensconced in my wool mittens.
I took them off for a minute or so but the self-induced wind chill was too much, so I pulled them back on part way.
They stayed that way until the end of mile five, when I finally pulled them off and just the warmth of holding them in my hands was enough to keep my fingers warm.
I did a lot of daydreaming during the jaunt and had few distractions.
And there were no physical complaints.
For this I was grateful.
I checked my watch as I crossed the finish line and found that my daydreaming had cost me dearly.
My time was within three seconds of 61 minutes.
But I was pleased overall.
I had traversed my favorite course again, under adverse circumstances, with no problems.
Pictures of the Oregon trip are coming, I promise.