Sunday morning, at 0° and with very thick frost, I ran a 10:57; this morning, -2° with frozen mist and a shoelace that came untied, the timer says I ran 10:10. That can’t be right, of course; even with a refreshed spring in my step after stopping, I was taking small cautious strides over patchy glazed pavements, and my muscles did not want to get loose at all. Still, I did my run, and now it’s time to clean up and go to chapel.