New Website

For anybody looking for one of my longer, introspective posts: prepare to be disappointed. Some point in the near future I will tell the story of trying out snowboarding for the first time last weekend, but right now I am limiting myself.

I found a new website this morning that anybody interested in the general nature of this blog might find interesting. It's called VentureThere.com and it features articles and blogs on all the various adventure sports out there.

The first blog post I read was about 10 Rules for running with your dog. As I hope to get a dog in the near future, and hope to run with my hypothetical dog, it presented a few good tips for me. As I find more of interest on the site, I'll try to link to a few more good posts here.

Fate or Choice?

A thought struck me on my run today: was I destined to be a distance runner, or was it by choice?

The answer is that I am not sure. For a long time I thought it was a choice. For most of high school, I was actually a sprinter. I have always had natural speed in the short distances. I was the fastest player on my soccer teams from as long ago as I can remember. When I joined the track team in eight grade, I naturally gravitated towards the sprinting team and, dislocated hip notwithstanding, I did fairly well.

I continued sprinting for the next three years, and by 10th and 11th grade I was regularly performing quite well, particularly in the long jump and some of the longer sprints. It was not until my senior year of high school that I opted into longer distances. I was unsuccessful at first, for a variety of reasons including the orthotics problems I mentioned in a prior post.

Looking back now, however, I wonder if it was fate, in the form of genetics, that led me ultimately to longer and longer distances.

The first time I recall competing in any sort of running events was when I was in England for my Kindergarten year. I only have vague recollections, but there are pictures of me performing rather well in my school's athletics day. I am not certain this is true, but I get the distinct impression that I probably did well during the latter half of those races, which was a pattern that would repeat itself throughout my life.

Over the next several years, I did not race very often, but I was always on a soccer team. I did not necessarily like running, but I was always quick. When I next competed in an honest race I believe I was in fourth grade. Every year one of the local high school tracks hosted a junior track meet. I did not race the "long" races (200 and 400m) but I did well in the 100. And unless I am much mistaken, I did very well in the second half of the race.

The pattern continued throughout the next several years. I noticed time and again that I could keep running throughout a soccer game without as much trouble as the rest of my teammates. This was a distinct advantage for me playing stopper (a central defender who generally ranges over the entire field). It also allowed my coaches to make full use of my primary ability: my extraordinarily long throw-in. By the time I was a senior in high school, I was able to hit the far goalpost from the half-line of the field, making teams reluctant to ever play the ball out of bounds. My speed and endurance allowed me to use this ability and still get back to defend if necessary.

The first time I ran a mile, I should have realized that I was destined for distance. We ran the dreaded "mile run" for gym class: 11 laps of the basketball court inside. Without realize at the time what it might mean, despite never having run more than 400 meters at a stretch before, and despite the less-than-ideal "track," I ran the mile in 7 minutes flat, leaving my classmates far behind.

That accomplishment notwithstanding, I proceeded the next year to join the sprinting team in track, primarily because that's what most of my friends were doing. I did well enough, placing in some events, and anchoring my relay teams. My spring season in 8th grade was cut short when I dislocated my hip anchoring the 4x200m relay.

I distinctly remember parents in the stands telling me to "walk it off."

Being young, I recovered fairly quickly, with at least one relapse. By the next spring, I was again running with the sprint team. When once again it was time for the "Presidential Fitness Tests," I ran the mile with my friend from the sprinting team. We finished with a time of 6 minutes this time, 30 seconds back from one of the distance runners in our grade. Again, I should have realized that I would be a good distance runner.

Naturally, I did not. I continued sprinting and in 10th grade had a breakout year. I started placing regularly in major meets in the long jump. I started anchoring both the 4x100 and 4x200 teams, when my coach discovered that I didn't want to relinquish a place once I had it. Had I been paying attention, I might have noticed that I was also quite good at the 400, and in fact the longer the race was, the better I did.

I did not notice this fact, and was named captain of the sprint team in what turned out to be a disappointing Junior track season. It was not until the next fall, when I started having knee problems, that two pivotal events happened. First, my doctor prescribed running to strengthen my knees, and second, possibly more importantly, I started dating a distance runner.

I got demoted that spring. I joined the distance runners, and so was no longer a captain. That was all to the good, as I was again plagued by injuries that season. But something had changed. I was now a distance runner to the core.

The pattern still continues: the longer the distance I run, the better I do. I did well in the 1000 meters in college. When I recovered from my broken ankle several years ago, I started running 5ks and 10ks, and did very well. Then I ran my first half marathon, which started with a 1.5 mile, 1500 foot climb up the side of a ski hill, and finished in the top 10% of a stacked field.

I have found that there is more to the pattern even than I thought. It is not simply that I perform better with increasing distance, I get better with increasing difficulty in general. Who knows what might be next? I am thinking of trying yet longer trail races, or possibly the Pikes Peak Ascent. But I can only conclude that, for me, it was fate and genetics that led me to distance running. Looking back at my own running history, I can't come to any other conclusion.

Winter Running Tips

I said yesterday that winter had returned with a vengeance. Well, they say revenge is a dish best served cold, and I think Mother Nature agrees. The high today is -1 with a significant. Nevertheless, I duly ran outside this morning.

It occurred to me after finishing my post yesterday that, if I encourage people to run outside on the coldest days in the winter, I should probably give some tips on how to do so safely. This morning gave me the opportunity to demonstrate this. So without further ado, here are some things I keep in mind. They are not necessarily scientific, but they work for me.

The major idea is preparation: you have to be ready for it. This includes clothing, of course. But it also includes preparing your body, and lest I forget, your mind.

Clothing: I heard a suggestion the other day to "dress like a bank robber." It sounds silly, but it's true. On days where it gets below zero Fahrenheit, exposed skin can freeze in a matter of minutes, particularly with any sort of wind. My rule of thumb for dressing is that I would like, for any run, to be about as warm as I am in shorts and a shirt in 55 degree, cloudy weather. But always remember it's easier to take off a layer that you end up not needing than going without it. More specifically, here is what I like to wear:

Head: I wear a hat when it gets below freezing. Anything down to 10 degrees and it's a thin Smartwool number. Below that, and I wear a fleece hat. For days below -10 or -20, I might wear both. I always wear sunglasses of some sort, which serve to provide a barrier between my eyes and the wind. Were I to live in a colder place, I might consider goggles that would not fog up and freeze. And on my neck, I wear a Buff, which is a thin neck-muff type protector that is thin enough to breathe through if necessary. On particularly cold days, I put it up over my nose to cover my face. This serves the dual purpose of capturing moisture and reintroducing it into your lungs. Otherwise the dry, cold air can be quite the shock.

Torso: Today I wore a thick Asics underlayer beneath a thin GoLite wind shell. I rarely wear more than two layers, as I overheat easily. The wind shell has pit-zips, which allow you to cool off somewhat without removing the wind protection provided by the shell.

Hands: Down to 25, I wear thin gloves designed for bicycling or just liner gloves. Below that, I prefer Lobster glove, which bridge the gap between mittens and gloves by splitting a mitten down the middle. Pearl Izumi and Swix make good versions. Today I wore liner gloves inside the Lobster gloves, which worked well.

Legs: Above freezing I almost always wear shorts. Below I have two pairs of running tights: a thin pair by GoLite and a thick pair by XC. If it's particularly windy I will wear windpants of some sort over tights or long underwear. If particularly cold, moreso than today, I will wear long underwear under the XC tights.

Feet: Feet are key to any runner. Don't neglect them. I wear Smartwool PhD socks in my shoes and have not had trouble with cold feet, though my toes are not as sensitive to the cold as some people's may be. And, for traction, I have a pair of "Get-a-Grips." They are rubber outsoles that strap onto your shoe, and have six tiny carbide spikes for grip. Some prefer YakTrax, but I find they put odd pressure points on the sole of my foot. For snowy trail runs, I have a pair of Kahtoola Microspikes, which are close to being crampons of the sort mountaineers might use.

Body: The first point in preparing your body is hydration. Most runners pay better attention to hydration in the summer than the winter. This is a common mistake. The dry air in the winter sucks water out of your lungs and actually can dehydrate you more quickly than the summer sun. It is equally important to hydrate before and after your run in the winter.

The second point in preparing your body is getting a good warm up in. Do not stay indoors too long once you have your cold weather gear on: you risk overheating and then leave yourself at risk to get chilled outside. Rather, as soon as you are ready, step out the door. The cold will always be a shock, expect this. Once you get over the initial shock, or even beforehand, start running slowly. As you warm up, you can increase your pace to whatever workout you are planning that day.

Mind: This ties in with body. The cold is always a shock. There is no getting around the fact that, when you step out the door in below-zero weather, your body is not happy. Acknowledge this fact, accept it, and expect it. Once you get outside and warmed up, it is much easier to keep going.

The second point in the mind category is pay attention. Running in the cold is all well and good as long as you pay attention to what your body is telling you and act accordingly. If your toes are getting numb, go home. If you start shivering and can't warm up, go home and take a warm, not hot, shower. Don't ignore what your body and mind are telling you.

I have no better place to put the next tip, but it seems to tie in with the previous point so I will place it here: take care to plan your route. In cold weather, whatever length of run you might be planning, stay a short run from home. That way if you get in any sort of trouble, you can quickly retreat with minimal consequences.

In some other post, probably in the next several days, I will tell a story about a run where I ignored the above advice. Suffice to say it was not pretty, and the consequences were lasting.