It is blizzard-geddon here in Boston.
My “favorite” part of snowstorms in New England are the weathermen and newscasters who stand out in the snow, or by the ocean, or next to snowy highways talking about how cold, windy, and wet it is. They drive me nuts. I mean, I guess it isn’t unique to New England because I remember watching the guy in Atlantic City during Hurricane Sandy, the ocean pouring into the roadway and then rising higher and higher up to his waist as he reported from an intersection. It gets me every time.
I was struggling a bit mid-week — not sick, but not normal. I fell asleep before 8:30 two nights in a row and couldn’t wake up in the morning — so I missed my Tuesday and Wednesday night workouts. Last night I probably could have pulled the same routine, but luckily Nik picked me up at the train dressed in his workout duds and ready to go. Thank goodness! I hit the treadmill for 3 miles at a good clip and felt fantastic.
Due to the storm, I worked from home this morning and when I got an email that our gym was closing at 1 PM, I scooted out for a lunch-hour workout — 5 miles on the treadmill. The place was JAMMED. Nik and I couldn’t even find treadmills next to each other (does it make us losers for even trying to find two treadmills together in the first place?) It was sort of awesome to see so many people prioritizing getting a workout in before hibernating for the rest of the afternoon and Saturday.
With just about a mile to go, a dude hopped on the treadmill two down from mine. Then, he proceeded to CRANK out 5:55 minute miles. It was a scene. And freaking loud. The entire row of treadmills was shaking. Everyone who walked by took a look and then glanced around at one another with a look that just said Woah. That’s what I was thinking, at least.
Anyway, it’s 4:31 PM, so we’re shut in until the governor says we’re allowed to come out. I’m off to make Nik the Irish coffee I promised him in exchange for the trip to the gym this morning.