A bout of shingles that lasted several weeks, then a blast of arctic air that left us with a week of temperatures -15C or lower meant that I only logged 34 kilometres of running in February.
When I don’t run, I get restless, fidgety, cranky, sour, salty.
March has come in like a lion with a wallop of snow and ice, and I’m roaring to get more miles in. Here’s hoping I can pounce on every day that provides a window of run opportunity of mostly clear (and salted!) roads.
But first, this chest cold has to clear out. Argh!