This morning at 7.30 I went out in the frost with my running companion and fellow misplaced former New Yorker, 'House of Pain'.
I've been doing 10k or thereabouts for the last few weeks, the build up from the December hiatus (man flu, extremely unpleasant weather, a more sensible approach to recovery etc) has meant that just by stepping out of the door I'm likely to clock up around 8 or 9k without really appreciating it until I get home and get onto google pedometer.
This morning the aim was a 10k.
Nice and simple.
The sky was blue, the paths were a mix of light snow, clear ground and treacherous death ice. The air was cold and crisp , the sort of air that jangles in your throat and kicks your lungs (by comparison, Thursday night's fog was beautiful, like swimming in menthol).
I told House of Pain that I fancied the NY marathon in a couple of years. "When the kids are a bit older and can appreciate it".
"Kids? You having another?" he panted back. "I didn't mean that, I meant your kids as well. You're doing it with me".
I kept it going and kept the mantra "the brain is stronger than the body" when things got tough.
I wanted to do it under 55minutes.
A fantastic way to start the day.
Now I just need to reduce that time.