Estonian sweater*: check!
Windprof jacket: check!
Gloves: check!
Woollen hat: check!
The only thing missing was a scarf; so why was I feeling so cold?
On Saturday mornings when I haven’t got anything else on, I cycle down to the open-air market in the town centre for a bit of food shopping. It’s no more than 2 miles each way, so not far enough to work up a sweat. But today, almost from the outset, I felt weak and shivery. I managed all my errands, including a diversion to the Royal Mail sorting office to pick up some items that they hadn’t been able to deliver earlier in the week (one of which was the book of Pete Hartley’s fell-running pictures). When I got home, I just lay down in bed with a hot drink for half an hour.
I have a reputation in my family as someone who doesn’t mind the cold; although in fell races I am usually one of the most heavily dressed runners in the field. But I have never felt like this before (except when I have had flu, but I haven’t got any other flu symptoms at the moment). The Beatles didn’t say anything about feeling the cold, and anyway, I haven’t reached 64 yet. So what’s going on?
* Bought in Tallinn in 1999; one of my thickest woollen sweaters.