Every day started out differently in Myrtle Bay. There were rarely two consecutive days of identical weather. It was Tuesday, and I awoke to the sound of the wind roaring in from the Southern Ocean. Knowing what that wind meant, I was up out of bed and in my running gear without a second of hesitation. If I didn’t get out the door fast, the wind would make me change my mind. Don’t think about it, do it. That was the only way. Besides, according to Doris, it was never that cold, almost never below freezing. She was right. But the wind chill was a whole other story.
I got off to a good start, pelting down the hill beneath the cypress trees and on across the road to the track. The wind kept many walkers away and I didn’t come across anyone on the first leg of my run. There were a few cyclist
