In Praise of 350Newtons

Overnight a cold front single-handedly introduced the South to Winter. South meet Winter; Winter, South. All acquainted? Good. What is usually a pleasant, brisk morning walk with my dog was suddenly a frost-bite inducing misery at 6:30 this morning. We both kept our heads down, whimpered a little, did what we had to do, and got back to the house as quickly as possible.

It's times like this that make me feel for die hard athletes who are at the mercy of the elements. Runners and road bikers who insist that nothing short of a flood will keep them off the streets. I don't really understand it myself; even when I was a competitive runner, I always found an excuse to take the winter off. It's times like this that make me thankful for the burden which I schlep to the club at least two days a week.

Shorts, knickers, shirt, plastron, jacket, knee high socks all things to be thankful for this time of year. For while the bikers are being treated for frost bite of the buttocks, I will be sweating and loosening my collar.

Of course, in the summer, we can all suffer together.