The Last .05 Mile

2 Mar

February 2015 turned out to be a pretty rough month for fitness. Boston’s had a crazy amount of snow so far–over 100″. We’re very close to the all-time record, and having gotten a couple more inches last night, I wouldn’t be surprised if we topped it. The snow, paired with some bitterly cold weather, have made being outside pretty miserable most days. The MBTA is barely functioning, so the Boy’s commandeered our car in order to get to work.

I have managed, however, to get outside every day for at least a little while. I haven’t done the “at least three miles a day” that I did in January, but the goal of doing 100 miles outdoors was something I did want to do. On Saturday, I tiptoed and slid across ice, climbed over mounds of snow, and walked through the trenches (literally)–all of which is old hat by now–in order to get my last bit of mileage. Walking a mile can take a half-hour sometimes, since not everyone’s very good about shoveling or melting the ice on their sidewalks. When it melts a little bit during the day and freezes at night, it’s even harder to move around. I constantly fear slipping and falling and getting a concussion (this has happened to a friend), and there are some routes that I just can’t walk because the way is so treacherous.

So on Saturday, it was clear and beautiful–and frigid. I was only wearing one layer of pants, two layers of socks, two layers underneath my winter coat, two pairs of gloves and a hat, and I was still so cold. I walked to the train station, met friends in Cambridge for lunch, wandered around there waiting for the train home, then walked from the train station back home. Then I totaled up my mileage for the month–and discovered that I’d done 99.95 miles.

Seriously.

This meant another round of bundling up, another round of walking, just to get that last bit of mileage–and yes, I realize I could’ve done laps in the driveway, but that’s not the point. I had to go somewhere, I felt I had to have some bigger purpose to the walk than just .05 miles. The Boy and I ended up walking to dinner, which at least was a nice way to wrap it up.

Two months down–and February’s probably the worst because it’s the shortest. Time to move onward.

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