It’s like the threat of an imminent attack from some dreaded, unseen enemy. For days now we’ve been warned about the arctic weather on the way this week. The much-feared ‘cold snap’. Up to 6 inches of snow, they say, and temperatures down to minus 14 Celsius.
Monday is supposed to be a rest day, but the siege mentality encouraged by the weather forecasts has finally got to me, and (to stretch the metaphor unreasonably) I decided to rush out and stock up with baked beans before the doors are nailed shut against the icy winds and the snow. Yes, I broke a long-time habit and went out for a run this morning. Who knows? It might be weeks before I get another chance…
The very cold stuff is due tomorrow, but even this morning wanoticeablyly chillier than yesterday. It meant I had a chance to parade my new Concurve gilet, though the world was disappointingly blasé about it. I turn up at the party in all my finery, but I’m the only one there. Yes, for perhaps the first time ever, I saw no one at all during my 3.5 miles this morning. A car moved, so there was probably someone in it, but I had no face-to-face contact at all.
Perhaps Mondays are always like this.
