So I was totally just at the beach yesterday, wasn't I? Sweating uncomfortably into my beach towel, drinking luke warm water out of my Nalgene bottle? I swear I just had a sunburn. And suddenly it's winter now. How the hell did that happen?
I went for a run this morning and just about froze off my tots. Running was the last thing I wanted to do while I was basking in the glow of my electric blanket, but I got this crazy notion in my head that I needed to run every day. Every single day. So I've been making myself run at least three miles a day. And of course now that I've started, I can't stop. It's vicious.
Even more vicious now that it's approximately 13 degrees outside.
I've been trying to hold off on turning on the heat in my apartment. I've resorted to blankets and doubling up on sweatshirts, but when I woke up this morning and the thermostat read "61" and the cats were packing their bags, I succumbed to the pressure.
It's now a cozy 66.
I'm sitting at work now, watching northbound traffic crawl on the highway, and am reminded that it's opening weekend for deer hunting. Another telltale sign that winter has arrived.
I really don't mind winter, but I feel like it sort of sprung itself upon us without much warning. Or maybe it happened so gradually that I didn't realize flip-flops were no longer acceptable until I stepped outside one day and needed gloves.
Winter's not so bad. It means Christmas, my birthday and round two of the Polar Plunge. (Oh yes, it WILL happen again. FYI. Sister.)