Running really is full of contrasts. Last Saturday, I went out for a morning run. Failed to look at the thermometer before I headed out, but since we’d had double blue digits in Oslo all week, I ran down the stairs from the 5th floor prepared. Sporting merino buff and gloves helped a bit, but -15°C is still pretty darn cold. It was only for an hour, down to Skøyen and back again, but when I returned home, I had icicles chaining my eyelashes to the buff and had sprouted a goatee of ice. I got frostbite on my cheeks during a particularly chilly day last winter, skiing in Serre Chevalier. This was despite wearing a merino buff up to my ears and ever since then, I try to cover my face when running in chills below -15°C. The condensation of my breath makes for some funny effects, though. People were staring at me on the home stretch, whether admiring my goatee or feeling sorry for a poor schmuck out running on a Saturday morning, I’ll never know.

Icy lashes and a little goatee
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