Baby, It's Cold Outside

I haven't posted anything here in over 13 months. Sigh. Just busy with the ordinary to be honest - and not really running all that much, unfortunately.

Is it a "running life" when I can manage only 50 miles per month, and even that minor mileage makes my legs hurt?

Of course, living in Minnesota makes running an interesting challenge, due to the full spectrum of seasons we experience here. People I talk to are often aware of the fact that it can be nearly 40 below zero Fahrenheit in the winter here, but suspicious of me for lying when I say it can also hit 100 F in the summer. One nickname for it is "shake and bake" -we shiver in January, and broil in July.

As you can see, the average low in January is in single digits, and the average high in July is in the 80s. of course, the record low and record high surpass those averages.

Source: http://www.intellicast.com/local/history.aspx?location=USMN0503

This time of year, it's shivering season! Speaking of shiver, here's a post-run photo of me a couple of weeks ago - January 13, 2018.

No, it wasn't snowing, that's just condensation from breathing when the ambient temperature is 11 degrees below zero Fahrenheit.

Someone viewing this asked me what I wore on my feet in that kind of weather. My answer: shoes.

I wasn't trying to be funny, and maybe it's just me who can do this, but I wear exactly the same socks and shoes whether it's 100F or -30F. And in all temperatures in between. And my feet sweat, throughout that range!

If it's cold and windy, I will admit that my standard nylon mesh uppers on my running shoes allow that cold air to creep in during the first 3 or 4 minutes of my run, and my toes feel a little chilly. But once I'm trucking along, I don't notice it anymore. And when I finish the run, my shoes look a lot like the face mask in this picture: frosty.

Comparatively, I have a lot more trouble keeping my hands warm. What I've learned over the years is that the best approach for me is a base layer glove of moisture-wicking material (thin polypropylene), over which I pull a simple nylon shell mitten. With that combination, my hands will actually sweat during the run, and when I pull of the mitten, that same condensation-turned-to-frost will tumble out.

Some people think I'm crazy for running in such cold weather. But the thing is, I have friends who regularly run in even colder climates! As long as I'm layered properly, and visible, it's fine. By visible, the main point is that I generally run in the early morning hours, and here in Minnesota it's as dark as night. I wear a headlamp, which also has a blinking red light affixed to the back of the head strap, and I wear reflective gear including a lightweight reflective vest. At that early hour, car drivers are simply not thinking about a runner - they are just commuting to work (generally) and in a hurry. I need to be seen, so I need to light up in the dark.

One last tip: I slather petroleum jelly on that little bit of exposed skin near my eyes. It helps prevent frostbite, and also helps keep my eye lashes from freezing together when I blink. I kid you not. It's happened to me, and it's such a strange sensation - you can't open your eyes! I've had to stop, pull off my gloves, and rub my eyes back open. However, when my lashes are greased up, it never happens. Fore-warned is fore-armed, as they say.

Safe running my friends!

Recovery - Month Four: Strides

It's an interesting irony to feel, at the same second, that time flies and yet every moment is savored. Perhaps that a common notion for anyone who's had some kind of very real brush with death? Then again, who am I to generalize from my personal experience to the wider world?

I suppose it's very lucky that I really don't have much to report! I've been plugging away. Hey, we're runners, that's what we do. We plug away, we log our miles, we improve little-by-little through effort and perseverance. I suppose all athletes who enjoy endurance sports fall under that formula. We're not home run hitters, but instead we are the faithful and the dedicated, always out there, always working hard, and hoping for the best.

I've been back to exercising nearly every day for many weeks now. It's not quite what it used to be, probably because of the medications I'm taking and the fact that my heart muscle is permanently damaged. In addition to those variables, I'd add the ingredient of fear - I'm hesitant, holding back, worried, a little tense. I typically alternate workouts, running one day, cycling the next, repeat. Here in Minnesota the cold weather has begun, so soon those cycling days will become elliptical days, but that's par for the course. Some factors that now put constraints around my workouts include:

1. I'm short of breath: maybe due to the meds lowering my blood pressure, maybe due to lower heart rate, maybe due to reduced blood output of my heart, or some combination of the above. At any rate, I breathe more heavily than I used to, especially during the first 10-15 minutes.
2. I keep my heart rate under 125 bpm. Compared to what I used to do in training, this seems rather pedestrian. But when I'm hitting 125 I feel (subjectively) like I'm working pretty hard.
3. My fastest mile on any run since my heart attack took place this morning. On the third mile of my 8 mile run, I clocked a 7:33. Certainly nothing to brag about, but these days any mile at or a little under 8:00 is a raging success. I'll take it. On my bad days, I run about 8:45 pace, and on my good days (like today) I can average just under 8:00. Again, I'll take it.
4. I bring drugs with me on every workout. It's just Nitro, but should I have another heart attack it could save my life. 
5. I wear a couple of ID tags on every workout. Just in case.
6. I appreciate the sunrise like never before, and yesterday I had the chance to see the "blood moon" on an early morning ride. Beautiful.

I hope to keep plugging away, following doctor's orders, and maybe someday be able to lace up for a (medium-length) trail race on a cool, clear morning, deep in a canopied wood. Please.

Good running everyone!

Is Hibernation an Option?

It's winter in Minnesota. That sounds rather mundane, I suppose. But in Minnesota winter should always be written as WINTER, or perhaps WINTER-IN-YER-FACE.

Must. Find. Front. Door.

Earlier this week, I returned from a short family vacation in southern Florida. I took off from Fort Lauderdale, mildly sweaty in the 82 degree Fahrenheit temperature. I stepped out of the airport terminal in Minneapolis about 4 hours later into 15 degrees below zero F - for those of you who are counting, that's 97 degrees colder. 97. Did I mention NINETY-SEVEN?!

I did a couple of short runs in Florida, but I'm keeping my running miles to a bare minimum right now. That's partly because my left hip is continuing to bother me (I'm sure it's my old friend piriformis syndrome, but that's worth another post on another day). And partly because, well, it's WINTER-IN-YER-FACE in Minnesota. I heard on the radio today that people were ecstatic because the temperatures would be above zero today. Ecstatic + above zero should probably not occur in the same sentence.

So, I keep wondering if hibernation might actually be an option.

Zzzzzzzz

Or perhaps technology can offer a solution, so that our winter training program looks something like this:

Minnesota Runners Ideal Winter Training Regimen

How do you cope with cold weather running? I'm usually not that intimidated by cold snaps, but when the temps are below zero for weeks-on-end, I slowly lose motivation. Thank goodness I've got one of these torture devices in the basement. My cat looks at me funny when I'm whirling away on the thing, but it keeps me in shape (and possibly gives her something to cat-laugh about).

No, that's not really me, but that IS really my cat. She's convinced that I'm a complete idiot. 

Here are a few tips for running outdoors in the "polar vortex" winter weather:

1. Layers. This is old advice, but it's truly effective. Wicking layers against your skin, wind-stopping layers on the outside. You don't need to spend thousands of dollars on fancy stuff, but you do need to avoid cotton at all costs. And get some nylon shell mittens to put on over your running gloves.

2. Screw shoes. Don't read that incorrectly, it means "put hex head sheet metal screws into the soles of your running shoes". These really, really work. I ran a winter trail race once that was just sheer ice, and I beat at least a dozen younger, faster runners who were simply sliding all over the place. All I did was chug along with my screw shoes providing a firm grip. Here's an good post about how to do screw shoes.


3. Petroleum jelly. I lather this stuff on my lips, nostrils, eye lashes, eye lids, and any exposed skin. It protects against cold and wind burn, and it prevents your eyelashes from freezing together when you blink. Yes, that happens. Did I mention WINTER-IN-YER-FACE?

4. Lights. Winter running often means running in the dark. A headlamp is a must. I like the Petzl Tikka - fairly light, durable, and bright enough. I combine mine with rechargeable batteries and I'm good to go all winter long.

You probably have your own advice to share, go ahead and comment below. Good luck out there, stay warm and stay safe.

History Repeats Itself?

I seem to be caught in some kind of eerie version of Groundhog Day. Ran a race this morning - we'll get to that later - and once again ended up in the results as 2nd place to some mystery guy who is 58 years old, and who totally kicked by proverbial butt. The difference this time: it was an out-and-back course, and I led the 10 mile race the entire way, so it was even more of a shock to see the results post-race and learn that I somehow came 2nd.

It was pretty obvious that it was some kind of error, to everyone who was standing around looking at the printout. First of all, this 58 year old was running what would be a world-class age group time, almost 5:00 pace for 10 miles. Heck, his time would have beaten my all-time personal best by over two minutes! Hmm.

To be honest, it was probably a bit of a bear to time this event, because they had a 10 mile, 10k, and 5k, race all out on the same roads at the same time, with finishers streaming in and no obvious way to know which race anyone was in. It's possible that the 58 year old was actually in the 10k and got mis-scored, or of course it's possible that he cut the course by turning around before the actual spot to do so. Anyway, as we mulled about chatting, they started the awards ceremony and sure enough, announced me as second place. I hate this experience: now I had to walk up to receive my award and applause, only to bring everything to a pause as I chatted with the organizer, "Um, I think there might be a little error in your results". I feel like I'm being selfish, but, you know, truth is truth. Luckily, the guy who actually got 2nd place came up too, to say so. Luckily for us, the jolly race director accepted our story immediately at face value and made the announcement for all to hear.

The Sweetheart 10 mile race was held in Mahtomedi, Minnesota, which to my recently-moved-here eyes looks to be a suburb of St. Paul. The course had some rolling hills, but the two notable details were the dirt roads (maybe 30% of the race, with no mention of this on the race website) and the 800 meters (or maybe more) of packed snow and ice out on the course (rather slippery!).

The turn-around spot was particularly slick, and I decided not to fall down (some others weren't so lucky) by simply slowing to a complete stop, turning 180 degrees around in place like a dancer in pirouette (I wish), and then resuming my running. Funny.

I'll be honest: there wasn't a lot of competition. I don't want that to sound insulting to anyone. I've said many times over the years: It's a race, and the other people were racing too, it's not like they all forfeited the victory. We all did our best. On this day, I managed to win. But if any young hot shots had shown up, I'd have been soundly thrashed.

Friendly folks, not a big race, but a nice event and a nice venue. I'd do it again. The results now up on the web seem to be corrected (thank you). I'm not sure if the course was exactly 10 miles, and I'm not sure why the time on my watch was about 51 seconds faster than the time they gave me ... but whatever.

The big question: when will this odd string of losses to phantom runners of 58 years of age ever end? It is some sort of odd curse?