I was trudging up a narrow road and finishing my early
morning run when I saw a middle-aged couple getting out of their car. Even
though I did not know them I said “Hi” as I approached them. The woman had a
befuddled look on her face like she was seeing something she could not
understand. She said, “You really enjoy running in this weather?” New
Jersey had been in the grasp of an extreme cold spell and most of my runs were
in the single digits, though on this day it was a balmy 15 degrees. I replied
“Yes!” She replied with an incredulous “Really?” She looked at me like I
was the bearded lady in a circus exhibit. I did not have the heart to say that
I like it a lot better than heat. I struggle when it gets into the high 80’s or
90’s.
I knew she didn’t live in that house because I run this
route almost daily and know the faces of the homeowners. I pictured her entering
the house and telling her friends that she saw a man running outside in this
cold weather, and what a strange neighborhood this is.
I find it fascinating that people are so shocked that I run
in the cold. Besides that woman, others have been shocked when, on an extremely
frigid day, I note that I did my morning run outside. People have asked “Doesn’t
it hurt to breath in that weather?” My reply is “No”. It is as if
running is a warm weather sport only. I must admit that there are runners I
know who, when the temperatures dip below the freezing mark, head to a
treadmill or a fitness center. When I first took up running, I was a heavy
treadmill user even joining an online system so that I could pretend that I was
running in all parts of the world. Now I search for races that take place in
all parts of the world. I believe the last time I was on my treadmill was about
ten months ago and that was when I was training for running the Grand Canyon
Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim and my second run of the day would be put on the steepest
incline so I could extra incline in my workout. Simulating a long steep climb
out of the canyon.
What happened you might ask? Well, my racing now is almost
exclusively ultra-marathons and trail races. While treadmills give you great workouts,
I find that running is more than just the miles covered. All miles are not
created equal. The type of races I run challenge you with the terrain and
elements. Conquering miles is relatively easy conquering bad weather and
difficult terrain is another. Therefore, I decided to run outside no matter
what.
I soon found many benefits to running in all types of
weather. First you learn how to dress for the elements. There is an old saying
which I believe is Norwegian and it is “There is no such thing as bad
weather, only bad clothes.” I have found this to be almost completely true.
I now look at the weather forecast on my phone and adjust my gear to the
temperatures I will be facing.
Second, and maybe most surprisingly, cold runs are almost more peaceful. After a snowfall it is eerily quiet and beautiful. There are always fewer people out and there are not as many birds and animals. They will all return in the spring. It is more meditative to run when the only thing you can hear are your own footsteps and breathing.
Third, it helps build resilience. Obstacles are placed in
front of us daily. Despite my bravado about running in the cold, it is always a
chore to get out from under a nice warm blanket in bed and bundle on the layers
to brave the cold. We humans – as most creatures –instinctively like a warm and
comfortable setting as opposed to one that is cold, frigid, and sometimes even
wet.
My morning routine actually starts the night before. I check
the hourly weather on my phone to see what it will be like around 7 a.m. I
brace myself for hot weather in the summer, and rain and wind particularly in spring
and fall. In the winter however you need to really get your mind around running
in tough weather. Especially frigid temperatures in the single digits like we have
experienced this year.
In order to ease my run on those mornings I get my running
gear out the night before. On those days when it is single digits it is a pile
of layers of clothing. Heavy winter gloves with an extra glove liner. Long
pants with a base layer. Not just a winter cap but a head mask. After years of
running outside in almost all weathers I have a routine and outfit for all
occasions.
As you can see, it takes some effort to get out the front
door. Yet once out that front door and I start running it seems the cold is not
that much an issue if I am dressed correctly. I usually make that assessment at
mile two. The one weather element that can affect me the most is wind.
Especially a strong gust. It can instantly make you cold when just a second
before you were fine.
While there are some nerves about going out the front door
there is great feeling when coming back in the front door. On weekends my wife
or son may be there to greet me and not really congratulate me but question my
sanity.
When I arrive home, I begin to shed the many layers I am
wearing. This is not as easy as it sounds because my glasses fog up instantly
as I get inside. I begin to leave a pile of clothes and gear in the foyer. The
only thing that dampens my enthusiasm is knowing that all those layers will
need to be washed.
There is always a great feeling finishing a run that is hard to explain to others. It means no matter what happens the rest of the day you have accomplished something. That feeling of accomplishment is stronger on a cold frigid day. You not only finished your run but you conquered the elements. You overcame an obstacle. Other people may be deterred but you were not. I am not crazy but determined.
A couple of days later it was the coldest day of the year, at one degree with wind chills at seventeen below zero. I am once again finishing up my run of seven miles, when I see my friend Joe coming out the front door of his house as I run by his house. He looks at me and says “Ray, you know you are crazy.” As if there is no debate on the issue. I replied “Just a little.” That is the thing that one has to accept when you run in the frigid cold. You think you are determined but your family, friends and even strangers think you are crazy. Maybe I am, but as I told Joe, only a little.
