Spot the difference: My hand warmers for yesterday’s winter run
Yesterday as I donned my winter running wardrobe layer by layer I realized I was missing a glove, and so I set out to find a replacement. A wool sock would have been a good choice, but instead I found a newborn baby’s cap in my top drawer. My fiancé took it home as a souvenir when the birthing clinic at his workplace was launched several months ago. And so I slipped the long cap on to my right hand, which then resembled the head of a gnome.
As I ran in the cold, I couldn’t help laughing at my mismatched hand warmers. I looked like I stuffed a gnome in my sleeve—like I stole someone’s garden ornament and was fleeing the crime scene. The pointy cap kept unraveling every time I wiped my nose or sneezed into it. Every so often I had to roll the tip back into my palm, only to have the long end unfurl minutes later. The part that stuck out resembled an unusually long finger flapping in the wind as I swung my arms to and fro.
There are days when you can’t wait to run, and there days when you have to drag yourself out the door to do it. Yesterday felt like the latter, but the incongruous hand warmers were a good distraction. In the beginning they helped move my mind away from the “task” of running, but before long, running was no longer a chore. In the end I got into the groove, I was breathing smoothly, my footsteps fell in a comfortable cadence, and yes my hands were warm and toasty.