WORST MORNING EVER

I was already pretty tired last night and thinking about maybe making today, Thursday, my "off" day and doing my planned swim, run and weight lifting workouts on Friday.

Deciding against it I went to the trouble of packing my bag including socks, shoes, briefs, undershirt, pants, shirt, tie and belt for work...razor, mirror, shaving cream, deoderant, toothpaste and toothbrush for the locker room...stopwatch, workout folder, shorts, t-shirt and swim jammers for my actual work out...banana, cup of milk, package of oatmeal and paper bowl for breakfast...and set out my tennis shoes, wind pants, sweatshirt, wallet, phone, wedding ring, keys and work documents.

Needless to say, it's kind of a pain to get all that together.

I woke at 4:30 AM wanting nothing more than to roll over and sleep another three hours. But I fed the dogs, gathered my belongings and headed out the door with just enough time to get to the YMCA as the doors opened at 530 AM.

Halfway there I realized I had forgotten one thing on my list...one necessary item that you can't swim without...goggles.

I mumbled something incoherent under my breath as I turned around and headed back to the house.

On the way my stopwatch (which was in my pocket) felt like it was going to fall out my pocket, so I took it out and set it on my lap.

I reached the house, raised the garage door halfway, stopped the car at the base of the driveway, hopped out, ran inside, grabbed the goggles, ran back to the car, hopped in, shut the garage door and headed back the way I'd come just seconds before.

Only about ten minutes off schedule. No big deal.

I reached the YMCA. Gathered my belongings. And walked inside. It was 5:40 AM.

After trudging up the stairs with my clothes and suitcase, I crammed my bag into my locker, undressed, put my clothes in the locker, reviewed my 3200 meter swim workout, picked up the formerly forgotten goggles and started looking around for my stopwatch (yet another necessary item as the entire workout depends on time).

No sign of it.

Not in my pocket. Not in my bag. Not on my wrist.

I remembered setting it on my lap in the car and thought it might have fallen out in the YMCA parking lot...and keep in mind it's very early and I haven't awakened all the way.

At this point I'm starting to lose valuable time, so I ran outside and looked all around and inside my car for the watch.

No sign of it as I squinted into the darkness beneath my car and in the shadows of its interior.

I ran back inside and asked the YMCA lady for a flashlight. She had one. The battery was dead.

I ran back upstairs and rechecked my bag. Not there.

That watch is also a heart rate monitor so it's not cheap. I couldn't just have it laying around for someone to take or runover. I had to know where it was.

I called Jenn's cell...it was dead.

I called the house. Jenn fumbled with the phone for about 10 seconds, dropping it a few times before she could finally raise it to her ear.

She wasn't happy. I asked her to please look and see if my watch was in the driveway. She remained unhappy.

About a minute later she came back to the phone..."it's not there."

Crud.

Nearing 6 AM I had run out of time to swim and workout. I had to find that watch.

I went back downstairs where the YMCA lady had just found a working flashlight. I grabbed it and ran outside. The addition of artificial light helped a great deal but revealed no watch.

I ran back inside, trudged upstairs, gathered my belongings, trudged downstairs, loaded everything back into my car and drove home. I was not happy.

The watch was at the bottom of my driveway. Just far enough away to escape Jenn's sleepy gaze moments before.

I picked it up, parked the car, walked inside, dropped my belongings, slipped off my shoes and got back in bed. It was 630 AM.

So now in order to be able to sleep in tomorrow (my "off" day), I'm going to have to workout, swim and run tonight which will take about 2.5 hours.

I should have just slept in this morning instead of waking up at 430 AM and being up for no reason for two whole hours that I could have been enjoying wonderful, deep, peaceful sleep.

Now I'm tired and won't make it home until 9 PM.

At least I get to sleep until 7 AM tomorrow...

"Worst Morning Ever" is an overstatement. But that's definitely what if felt like at the time.

COLDEST RUN EVER

I woke this morning at 5 AM. Hit the "T" on my blackberry which dials the time and temperature. Listened as the recorded voice told me it was 22 degrees. And prepared for the coldest I've ever been...ever.

I wore thin Nike shorts. A tight, long-sleeve Nike shirt and a loose-fitting long sleeve shirt I was given for finishing the 2008 White Rock Marathon.

I normally don't wear gloves or anything on my head, but I did today. Thin gloves. A thin head piece.

My training had me running for 1:15:00, so I decided to run to my marked five mile point on CR 503 north of my neighborhood...a total of 10 miles.

Normally I keep my hands and fingers moving when it's cold since I'm usually bare handed. Since I was wearing gloves, I guess I thought my hands were fine.

I was wrong.

One hour, fifteen minutes and 10.5 miles after a run which the wind chill was in the teens, I tried to open the front door and realized that my hands weren't cold, they weren't hurting, they weren't tingling. I couldn't feel my fingertips AT ALL.

I managed to get the door open with my elbows and stumbled inside to the guest bathroom where I couldn't wait to put my hands under warm water.

I was a little disoriented and turned the faucet to the hottest it would get, waited a few seconds and held my hands underneath the scolding deluge.

I must have held them under the water for 10 or 12 seconds and didn't feel a thing. I could barely feel my face at this point.

What happened next I've never experienced before.

My hands seemed to "wake up" from a deep sleep. And it was like they woke up from a nice, peaceful sleep at the exact moment a pack of hungry wolves broke into their home and began attacking without mercy, ripping flesh, devouring blood, killing children, drinking the last bit of milk in the fridge, whizzing on the new couch, pooping on the marinating chicken, calling a mob boss and insulting his wife while pretending to be the residents, chewing through the television cable and leaving nothing behind.

I don't know if it was the cold blood in my hands being revived or if my hands were just burned from the water, but the pain was so intense and lasted for so long that all I could do was scream out in frustration.

And I screamed.
And I screamed...

And I screamed at the pain, confusion and frustration. Jenn was thrilled.

Oh the pain.

My hands eventually warmed up, and I was able to get ready for work. Although my right pinkie is still tingling and numb.

Moral of the story - move your fingers when it's cold even if you're wearing gloves and run luke warm, LUKE warm water over cold, numb hands to GRADUALLY bring life back to the extremities.

Live and learn.

Man it was cold.