Today was like running the gauntlet, wind, ice and suburban soccer moms doing kerb-checks in their Ford Planet-Eaters while making their weekly trip to the West Side Market. I had a seven mile run, but only completed four and change; the grillionth time I almost died from a wind gust pushing me off a bridge or getting clocked in the face by an ice-rimed plastic bag I decided to call it quits. I was warm the whole time, thanks to my layers of various synthetic stuff, and I found that my fleece vest from work is actually useful. My ass is always cold by the end of a run, however.