It’s cold in Lyon this morning.
Officially, the temperature is 1°C or about 34°F but, with the wind blowing at 20km/hr and gusting to twice that – what the French call the bise, something like ‘the kiss’ – it feels about -5°C or about 23°F. Considering I used to race my bike in temperatures approaching 40°C in the shade in Australia, this is not something I really grew up with, and it is not all that comfortable. Still, I wanted to get the daily run in even if it was going to be chilly, so I headed out the door for a 5:15am start and pointed myself across the Saone before heading downriver to a set of stairs I now know pretty well.
Running beneath the Old City, then crossing into Mulatiere, and eventually entering Saint Foy, the wind was behind me meaning that the only cold I was feeling was on my face as I ran forward in the morning air. It occurred to me after a couple of kilometers of this, though, that if I couldn’t feel the wind that was whipping the trees about and which had been blowing across the footbridge when I first got started, I was definitely going to be feeling it on the way home. Something to look forward to, I guess…
As I got to Saint Foy I hit the stairs (after negotiating some roadworks with a pretty sizable hole in the road just before arriving at the base of the staircase) and headed up, then continued on to the second level with a couple more stairs and some steep sidewalk. I tapped the pole at the top, then looped back to that first staircase and headed down to the road again where I had a decision to make: do I return the way I came, or do I duck over the bridge to Confluence and run back along the river?
I went with the second option, crossing over the road bridge and starting to feel the ‘kiss’ of the win on my face. A duck under the railway, and then I was running towards the Confluence mall and feeling the full force of the wind on my face.
Crikey: this is cold.
I hadn’t worn arm warmers this morning as I thought I had some that were clean and it turned out, on laying out my clothes the night before, I was wrong. My jacket was being whipped around a little and my arms were cold; luckily I had my gloves on otherwise I am sure I would have been feeling the cold in my fingers, too.
Over the marina, along the river, a quick turnaround and double-back when I realized that part of the riverside path was blocked off, and then an over-and-back across the river Saone to make sure that, when I got back to Jacobins, I could press stop on my watch with a run in double-figure kilometers…just. I had 10K banked, I was freezing cold, and more than ready to jump into the shower and get the next part of my day underway.