Greenhouse effect notwithstanding, it's downright cold in the American northeast where I live. While most people complain about the chill and wonder how they can go about their daily lives in the arctic temperatures, my concerns are about one thing only: is it safe enough to jog outside?
If you live in a region of our world with brutal winters and you want to empathize with your car as you cold-start the engine in the mornings, I'd suggest a jog outside. It's an interesting experience.
Sometime in my early twenties I acquired the jogging bug and having an addiction-prone personality, I still haven’t been able to shake it. In those days, when I belonged to a gym, I used to jog inside. Then I got married and soon the kids arrived, money and time got tight and the gym was no longer in the picture. But the jogging addiction never left me and soon I discovered the joys and agonies of outside jogging. Rain or shine, snow or wind, oppressive heat or brutal cold, jogging must continue like a religious edict.
So what I do when I feel it's unsafe to jog in the arctic air? I do what every addict does to get his fix. I throw caution to the wind, ignore the inner alarm, and get out there. I know it's wrong, I know I should wait for a more reasonable weather, I know my wife will call me nuts as I walk in the house with icicles stuck to my nose and wheezing as my frozen lungs struggle to dispatch extra oxygen to my aching muscles. But none of those seem to matter when the endorphins have kicked in and I'm feeling just groovy.
So let the nature bring it on. I'll be out there again. For me there is no hope for a cure.