Frozen eyebrows and snot icicles. 13 miles.

warning: I apologize, in advance, for the bitch fest that is about to take place.

The difference is, they weren't frozen by choice.


  • 13 miles of pure agony.
  • 2 hours 24 minutes 00 seconds (Doesn’t count the # of minutes I spent peeing and thawing)
  • # of beeps from jerk face cars: 1
  • # of times I flipped the bird: My fingers were frozen.
  • # of CVS clerks who looked at me like I should be directed to the nearest mental facility: 3
  • Number of times I cried: 1 (continuously for the last 2 miles. and the tears froze down my face.)
  • Did I mention my fingers were frozen?

The Run

There was a point about 6 miles in that I realized my water bottle could no longer be sipped because it had frozen into one lump. And then, for fun, I felt the top of my head; my hair was solid as a rock. My nose? Runny? “Runny” might not be the word to use for something that is frozen into a solid stream from nostril to lip.

The good news is, it was so cold that I couldn’t feel my shins enough to realize how much pain they were in until after I’d thawed out at home, at which point my legs erupted into an agonizing, throbbing bout of pain until I could no longer form words. (That was a run-on sentence. It was for dramatic effect.)

In other good news…

Nope. I got nothin’.

(not many more training runs to do in the frozen tundra of New England… just keeping my head up ’til then.)