Little streak of misery

Okay so all of yesterday's 'hooray I'm running the trail' enthusiasm went out with a little fizzle this morning when I whipped back the curtains to discover that our promised 17 degrees and sunny looked more like flippin' cold and foggy. Any other day I'd have wimped out and resigned myself to the gym, but having made arrangements with Rob and won my fight with the Frenchman to run before lunch I couldn't see any way to worm out of it this time. Damn.

It was freezing - cold enough to see breath - and the only t-shirt I had to hand was rather small and not very warm. Arms looked like corned beef after just five minutes and I've brayed like a donkey all afternoon. Why is it only running outside that leaves me with a cough? Managed about 3kms at a mixed pace - was passed by a few stampeding turtles (see photo!) and the odd racing snail but at least I was trying. Was quite disappointed that I had to keep stopping to catch my breath, that never happens on the treadmill. Rob was actually pretty useful, even if he did keep telling me I'm a little streak of misery...I know, but I don't need to keep hearing it!

Lunch went by the by, as none of the participating restaurants were actually aware they were a part of the Independent's 'eat out for a fiver' deal. I didn't mind though. Last night the Frenchman strode purposefully into the kitchen to inform me that *assumes 'allo allo' accent* he would not be waiting for me to have my run before going for lunch, and neither would Nick, so I had better think twice about running if I wanted to eat with them. I felt like telling him he could shove his lunch, but I knew very well Rob was running with me and Nick would wait, therefore I'd won the argument without even opening my mouth. If there's anything that annoys an arrogant, narcissistic only child more than waiting for me to finish my run before lunch, it's losing an argument. Take that Frenchie.

Photo's courtesy of this site by the way; http://mfrost.typepad.com/cute_overload/