True believers, I’m excited to let you know that I have some new posts coming your way. Keep yourself in the know by subscribing or checking back often…I’ve got a great email interview with the Executive Director of R4V, Meghan Lederer, all teed up, and you are going to want to read what she had to say.
Well, the good news is, I won. The bad news is, conditions weren’t exactly PR material. Temps were good – 10 or 15, but it was snowing and we ran on variable packed snow.
I got up early yesterday to get some food prep rolling, then kissed Jen and Rider on my way out the door. Driving up to Bartlett HS, the driving was a little tricky in the snow, and vis wasn’t great. Pulling in to the parking lot, I saw what I expected: super small race, just 100-odd folks around trying to stay warm. Luckily they opened the school for us, so I was able to duck in and drop some things off before warming up.
The course was three loops around the school, pancake flat. On a summer day, it was PR material. Yesterday…not so much. As I jogged around, I found myself on decently packed or shallow snow one minute, slipping and punching through crust the next. My hopes of ideal conditions were dashed in about the first 100 yds. So, I decided the day needed to be about effort, not time. Not any easy mindset shift for me, but necessary nonetheless. I felt pretty good, but I was still disappointed in the conditions.
I decided on spikes after warming up in my Yaktrax, hoping they would give me some traction when I needed it while staying light on my feet. On the starting line, the cold didn’t even bother me, thanks to the unseasonable weather last week, which was good.
I took the lead from the start, trying to pick paths with the best footing, but some of the turns required me to slow way, way down lest I risk eating it. In my head, I felt like my effort level was honest. I resolved before the start to avoid looking at my Garmin, so I had no idea how fast or slow I was going, but I guessed 5:30. As we neared the end of the first lap, I strained to hear the timer…
“5:56, 57, 58, 59, six minutes,” was the unwelcome cry I heard at the first lap.
Say what? Six minutes? I tempo runs faster than that pace! I tried to just let it roll off my back and focused on the task at hand. It was hard. Luckily, there was one guy on my shoulder to keep me honest. For the next half mile, I did my best to drop the pace, working the stuff with good footing and just kind of making it through the bad stuff. I dropped 2nd somewhere around 1.5-1.75 on a short surge, and never looked back.
I started to lap people, which got tricky. We were all looking for the good traction, but I made the standard pleas for space as I approached slower people. But, some folks just don’t know what “On your left!” means. So that was tricky too. Coming into the last mile, I really dug for another gear, but just as I felt like I was picking things up, my feet would slip and throw me off. It was a little frustrating but I didn’t let it bother me too much. I just kept thinking that I needed to work each section as hard as I could, and that kept me on track.
I finished in 17:48, which is not fast at all, but how do you account for conditions? There were times when I felt like a Loony Tunes character, feet spinning out as I tried to ratchet down the pace. I was able to negative split each lap, but not by much. And even those precious few seconds each mile came with a bill attached.
On Monday, I had to do a PT test I forgot about, which included a 1.5 mile run on an indoor 200m track. Without even a warmup, I ran it in 7:56 (5:17 pace). It was the fastest I’ve run the distance since my college days, and I while wasn’t jogging, it wasn’t 100% either. As a result, coming in to yesterday, I didn’t think that holding 5:25 pace for 5k was a stretch. So, it was definitely disappointing to run 17:48. But, keeping things in perspective, I think I raced as well as can be expected for the conditions. It’s a tough pill to swallow, because I want to be the guy who is fast regardless of how slippery the roads might be.
But, first is first. I even got a Butterball for my efforts so how can I complain? I know where my fitness level is at, and if I have to wait until spring to prove it in a race, so be it.
The Alaska-stache at rest.
As a newly re-born cold-weather runner, I thought I’d share some advice and thoughts on running through the winter. Okay, check it out:
Alaska.
Quick – what was the first thing that came to mind? Bullwinkle the moose? Frozen, barren wasteland? Endless winters and months within literally no sun? The answer is that all responses are correct. Alaska is the size of about 30% of CONUS, and with it come the widest variety of climates you will find anywhere in this great nation (Author’s Note: non-scientific response, of course, but feel free to wiki or Google it at will.) Here in Anchorage, we sit next to a rather large body of water known as the Pacific. Technically, we’re on the Cook Inlet, which is an extension of the Pacific, but you get the idea. That large body of H2O likes to warm up slowly, and cool down slowly as well. As a result, it moderates the affected climate significantly. For example, average temps here in the winter are actually much warmer than where I grew up in northern Minnesota. More snow, but warmer for sure.
Daylight – yep, head up to Barrow and you will indeed lose the sun for a bit. But here in Anchorage, the shortest amount of daylight is about 6 hours, not including dawn/dusk, on 21 December.
The point of all this useless trivia is this: winter does in fact come to Alaska, but what it is largely depends on your location. Which brings us back to Anchorage, and the attempts of yours truly to continue to train through the colder months. And yes, it’s cold. Last week, when the above pic was taken, daily lows were in the negative 10s-20s F with the windchill. So, to make it through runs without ending up a frostbite victim, you have to equip yourself for the cold. The key here is layering. Try and head out in a something that looks like what your mom sent you out the door in when you were a kid, and you will quickly find yourself overheated and soaked with sweat under that sweet, neon-striped moon suit. Here’s how to break it down:
1) Base Layer. Your base layer should be tight, and next to the skin. Depending on temps, you can wear something very thin and light, or thick and warm. I prefer to keep it as thin as possible. The purpose of the base layer isn’t to keep you warm per se – it’s to transport moisture away from the surface of your body. Dry skin is warm skin – wet skin, not so much, and your body is constantly evaporating moisture as a part of its metabolic processes, whether it’s 50 below or 120 above. So, for example, last week I wore a Patagonia Capilene top and bottom, very light weight. On my hands were some tight-fitting polypro fleec gloves, and just the usual running socks on my feet. Oh, and before I forget…fellas. Invest in some windproof undies. So very worth the pain they prevent.
2) Middle Layer: This is where insulation starts to happen. Remember that warm clothes aren’t warm because they magically generate heat. They’re warm because they trap and reflect the heat generated by the 98.6 degree furnace beneath it. It still needs to breathe and wick, because the moisture your base layer transported needs to go somewhere, right? And that somewhere needs to be away from your body. For me, and this is all a matter of preference and body style, I actually wore a middle layer. I usually won’t until temps get to around zero, just because I prefer to err on the side of being cold as opposed to overheating. I should specify, however, that I did so only up top, not on my legs. My middle layers last week were technical running tops, half zips. A little thicker than the base layer, and a little more loose, but still wicking and still fitted enough not to be all baggy.
3) Outer layer. Your outer layer serves two purposes: keep what’s outside on the the outside, and move what’s inside, to the outside. Ideally, the outer layer should counter the environmental threat you face. If it’s raining, it should shed water. If it’s windy, it should block the wind. If it’s snowing, it should be water-resistant enough to shed the snow as it melts from the body heat escaping your layering system. Last week, my hat was a windproof North Face beanie, and my top was either a light softshell or an extremely light hardshell wind jacket. Over my fleece gloves I wore hard shell gloves to block the wind and trap heat. Oh, and I would be remiss if I didn’t mention glasses – I wear Rudy Projects with clear lenses, which are absolutely indispensable to keeping cold wind and snow out of my eyes. Also, I like to wear a gaiter around my neck when the wind is really bad and cold since breathing with a frostbitten neck can be problematic. My shoes are the same shoes I wear year-round, with Yaktrax to buy traction on the the snow and ice. I experimented with the pants – one day I wore some loose tights, the other day I wore the Saucony ones that highlight my curves. Both worked well, but the looser ones are the smart choice when it gets really cold since they keep the wind off your skin.
Okay, so that’s how I deal with the cold. Layer up, layer smart. The best rule of thumb is that you should always start the run feeling cold, and let the exercise-generated heat warm you as you progress. Now, let’s talk about how light (or lack thereof) affects how I train up here.
It’s dark here, boys and gals. Daylight is short, and doesn’t align well with prime running time (early morn/early evening). There are tangible effects and intangibles to short days…Tangibles: when it’s dark, you need to be able to see, and be seen. In order to see, I wear a headlamp to ensure I don’t run smack into a lightpole, errant moose, or another runner. Unfortunately, what I’m using right now is not putting out enough light for my comfort level, so I need to fix that. It also helps me to be seen, whether I’m on the trail or the roads. But while some manufacturers have gone to endless lengths to ensure their outerwear is easily visible (neon colors, reflective piping, and even battery-powered lighting), the cheap remedy is simply to drop about $3.50 on some adhesive reflective safety tape. Cut it up into some small pieces that you can stick/sew on your back, front, sleeves, whatever, and you achieve the same effect.
Intangible effects of the evil dark: who the hell wants to get up at oh-dark-thirty and crush a run in the cold? Nobody – that’s who. The human body is solar-powered and sun-timed. When days get short, bodies get lethargic and prefer to exercise jaws through the ingestion of peppermint bon-bons and frosty refreshments. There’s even a disease called Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD, get it?) that has to do with folks in norther climes getting so bummed by lack of sunlight that they get uber-depressed. While I’m not planning on offing myself anytime soon, I have noticed the lethargy. I want to sleep longer, later, and just generally have a hard time waking up. Even a cup of inky French-Pressed Ethiopian Go-Juice can’t seem to get me going. So, I bought a full spectrum lamp (known colloquially as a “Happy Lamp”) that essentially puts out sunlight. When I get up, I make my coffee, then sit in front of that bad boy while I enjoy my drank. Within 20 minutes, I feel like noticeably more energetic and motivated to get out the door.
So, that’s it. I’m happy to report that my worst fears moving from the Dirty Durty regarding running in the winter have proven unfounded. It’s true I won’t be on the track too much until spring, but maintaining a good base should be no problem. I’ve started running to and from work in the mornings and afternoons, and that gets me about 13-14 miles a day. For speed, I just hop on a treadmill. The conditions outside are a challenge – sometimes I’m on hard-packed trail, sometimes road, and sometimes, I’m struggling to hold 10 minute mile pace because I’m on soft snow or crust. But I like the challenge, and the variety. After two years of pounding nothing but pavement, it’s nice to get the same benefits on a multitude of surfaces.
Look, you can get super nerdy with this stuff. It’s not like summer: shoes/shorts/tee? Simple Check. And it’s all individual, and sometimes gender-driven. You’ll ge
Matthew Komatsu 