run, rest, eat, bitch, buy things, cross-train, blog, repeat.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Letter to the weather lady...

Dear Lisa Patton,

The relationship between a weather lady and a runner is one that is based on trust. I, the runner, trust you, the weather lady, to predict an accurate temperature (within 5 degrees) and to tell me if it’s likely going to be precipitating at all and in return, you trust me to not come down to the television station and kick your ass when your wrong. So far, we’ve done okay together.

First, let me tell you that I have a very tight schedule in the morning. My alarm clock goes off at precisely 6:04 am. That gives me exactly 11 minutes to use the bathroom, get dressed, strap on my ipod, and get downstairs and outside my building at 6:15. Anything that disrupts this 11 minute routine and my whole morning goes straight to hell. Which means, I don’t have time to turn the tv on and check the weather and make adjustments. No, no time. So that means that I have to prepare the night before. I have to check what the weather will be at 6:15 and lay out my running clothes right before I go to bed.

It works for me.

So, last night, there I was... getting ready to turn the TV off at 9:15 and get ready for bed. I switch it over to the 24 hour channel 2 nashville weather channel (in HD no less), and there you are, telling me that while the temperature tomorrow morning will be 42, it will feel 10 degrees cooler because of a bitter cold, gusty wind of 15-25 mph. I remember, you actually used the phrase bitter cold. And then I turned you off.

I went into my closet and pulled out the following items:

1. Underarmour cold gear leggings.
2. Underarmour all season gear long sleeve top.
3. Short sleeve tshirt long enough to cover my ass.
4. Zip up running jacket.
5. Ankle socks to go over the leggings.
6. Shoes.
7. Brooks Running Gloves.

I looked at the pile on the floor for a moment and thought to myself…. “I’m breaking my rulebut Lisa Patton said it’s going to feel like 32.” So, I crawl into bed and think nothing of it.

You see, Lisa, I have a rule. My rule is…

When the temperature is over 39 degrees, always wear shorts. I don’t break this rule, Lisa. I don’t. But because you were so adamant last night, about the bitter cold wind, I broke it.

Once I stepped outside, I knew that I was overdressed. Yesterday morning, I was wearing shorts and a sleeveless bra top and here I was today, bundled up like I was getting ready to run in the artic circle.

About 6 minutes in, I thought I was going to keel over and die from heat exhaustion. Seriously, I was sweating like I was running in a sauna. Where was the gusty, bitter cold wind, Lisa?? Where? I was praying for it… and it never came.

I ran 6 miles this morning, Lisa. Six sweat filled, light headed, steamy miles. Whilst other runners taunted me with their bare legs and bare arms. Running fast and free all around me. And I wondered… what weather forecast did they watch?

When I got back into my condo and peeled the wet layers off me, I turned the tv on. It was 46 degrees. Are you kidding me?? Are you kidding me??

So, it is with much disappointment that I write this letter, Lisa. I write this letter to tell you that you’ve broken the trust between us and I just don’t think you’ll ever get it back. I’m moving on to another weather person. One who actually has a degree in meterology (not just communications, like you).

Thanks for almost killing me this morning. Just be glad your television station is in a bad part of town, or I’d come down there and take care of this in person.


Amy, a runner.

P.S. Just because I found the bitter cold wind on my walk into work, doesn't excuse the fact that you were 2 hours too late with your prediction.

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