Temperature 6, feels like 1

My run last Sunday kicked off with a glance at the weather app. It told me it was 6 degrees but “felt like” 1. I’ve never fully understood why it needs to give both. Isn’t the temperature supposed to tell us how it feels? Why does 3 degrees sometimes feel like minus 1? Shouldn’t 3 degrees just feel like… 3?

Anyway, this blog isn’t about the weather app. It’s about what happened when I dressed for “feels like 1” instead of “actual temp is 6”.

Despite all my mocking of the app and its dramatic opinion on how I should feel, I have to admit it was spot on. That “feels like” warning sent me racing back inside to grab my running gloves—and thank goodness I did. I didn’t take them off the whole time. Touché, technology.

There I was on my long Sunday run, jogging along the Yarra trail past local footy fields. Kids were charging around in their mini league games while their parents stood frozen on the sidelines, shouting encouragement through chattering teeth. I spotted ice on the grass and thought, “Wow. That ‘feels like’ temp was no joke.”

Eventually I left the noise of the games behind and hit the wooden bridge that winds along the Yarra River. It’s a beautiful stretch that takes me toward the city before looping back home. As I approached the bridge, I noticed it looked oddly white in patches. The second my foot landed on it, I knew why. Ice.

I’ve never run on ice before. I had to slow down, tread carefully, adjust my stride. My focus shifted from pace and cadence to simply not falling. And that’s when the metaphor hit me.

Photo from my run

This is exactly how it is with fitness and life. Injuries don’t always announce themselves. Sudden stress, shifting energy, surprise life events—they’re the ice underfoot. They force you to change pace, let go of your expectations, and just keep moving forward with care. You stop worrying about how fast you’re going or how heavy the barbell is. You focus on maintaining the habit. On showing up. Because it’s not the constant improvement that matters most. It’s the consistency.

But here’s the surprise. As I ran across that icy bridge, something unexpected happened. I started smiling. It was novel. Challenging. A little bit fun. And as I leaned into that feeling, my shoulders relaxed. The fear of slipping gave way to something lighter—a sense of play. I felt grateful. For my body, for the moment, for being out there at all. The ice, both literal and metaphorical, began to melt with every step.

So next time it feels like everything around you is wobbling—whether at work, at home, or just in your head—lean into your routine. Don’t cancel the PT session because you feel off. That session might be the exact thing that brings you back to centre. It could be the 45-minute burst of joy you didn’t know you needed. A moment to notice what your body can do instead of what it can’t.

Sure, I had to slow down. My running form was less than perfect on that bridge. But it was the best part of the run. Actually, it was my favourite run this year.

So maybe ‘feels like 1 degree’ wasn’t quite right after all. Because I came home feeling like a sunny 25.