As I wait for class to start today, let me take 30 seconds to remark on the temperatures this morning.
It. Was. Cold. 11 degrees when I left. WITHOUT windchill. That was minus 7. Fahrenheit mind you.
As I burst out of Cromwell, gloves at ready, I thought to myself “This isn’t that bad.”
5 seconds later: “Ok, so maybe it’s a bit brisk, glad there’s no wind.”
7 seconds later: “Mmm, I’m so glad my jacket is nearly windproof.”
10 seconds later: “Too bad my face isn’t windproof.”
20 seconds later: “Aw, crap. This would make a good blog entry.”
40 seconds later: “Wind sucks.”
42 seconds later: “Wind blows.”
55 seconds later: The cold has begun cutting through my gloves. My jeans have long since turned into cold strips of fabric leeching heat from my legs.
65 seconds later: “Must… Reach…Eickhoff…”
90 seconds later: “Ah, the Automatic Doors of Salvation.”
After a tolerable breakfast, it was time to continue onto my final destination: Armstrong Hall, 3 and a half minutes away (regular pace). Oh the horror.
Eickhoff +0: *Gloves on, moving out.*
Eickhoff + 25: Eyes are watering from the cutting wind.
Eickhoff + 35: Wind has breached socks and gloves.
Eickhoff + 60: Approaching Green Hall, will power fading.
Eickhoff + 70: Thoughts of blog-worthy comments evaporate. Mental swearing ensues.
Eickhoff + 120: Ears in pain. Face is MIA.
Eickhoff + 165: I think I’ve set a new personal record in power-walking.
Eickhoff + 170: Arrival, what bliss… it’s warm… that feels so heavenly…
And so ends my tribula-… crap, What happens when class ends?