My day of epic greatness

I've been blogging for like 4 years now. God, I can't believe it. And my brother's view is that you ought not to blog about the mundane trivialities of life, but unfortunately that is what life mostly is. Additionally, I like looking back on my old blogs, picking a random day and being blown away by the instantly retrieved memory.
So here's to hoping that in a couple of years I might look back to this post and go "yeah, that was a pretty fucking boring day".
Woke up too early because I was desperate to get my car in to get the snow tires on. Bedlam, it was, at 8.20am on a Monday no less.
Then I tried to go back to bed because I didn't sleep great last night and basically lay there for almost two hours listening to the cat snore. After which I got up and started watching more of the last season of Lost (DON'T WRECK IT FOR ME IF YOU'VE ALREADY SEEN IT).
I was on board through Season 4. Season 5 was a bit wonky. Season 6 is plain stupid, confusing and I essentially don't care about anything aside from when Jack or Sawyer might take their shirts off, and when Clare might brush her hair. Other than that? I hope the smoke monster kills them all. All they do is run from the beach to the temple to the beach and then in circles and to the temple and the Black Rock and the beach again. It's really trying. And why does Kate always end up in bell bottom jeans? Is there a MAVI store on the island or something? Christ.
Okay, enough of that. Then I decided to get in that 12 miler. It was -5 with a windchill that had to put it down around -8 or -10. I've been running a few years now, and it's never been that cold. Running down Cypress I felt a weird sensation on my cheeks. My eyes were watering so much they were leaking. I had to run with my fingers balled up in my gloves - thumbs in - because it was so windy. And oh, I forgot my gloves so I had to borrow some rather nice ones from my mom and I kinda got Carb Boom on them. No one on the seawall. No one anywhere. I ran from Kits to East Van to Coal Harbour to Second Beach and back and I saw less than 10 runners. I was glad to have done it. I saw three snow men, a crow cavorting in the wind and just enjoyed the beauty that is Vancouver, even on a blustery November day.
That's pretty much it.
Oh, that, and I think that left to his own devices? Felix would broil himself in front of the fireplace. Twice I pulled him away from it and his fur was hot to the touch. What a weirdo.