Running In The Winter: You Just Have To Be Flexible

I’m not a very flexible person.  I’m not talking about physical flexibility, though I have always been “double jointed” and even at my advanced age I can still bend my thumbs back so they almost reach my forearms (which as a kid was a fantastic way to get my older brother to run away screaming in disgust when he was annoying me and I just wanted him to go away).  I’m talking about my personality.  I like things organized, set up, ordered.  I want to schedule things and have them happen exactly when and how I want them to.  My husband’s favorite joke is that he’s waiting for the day that I turn to the kids and say, “OK!  The spontaneous fun will begin in 10 minutes!”

For any runner living in the Northeast, this has been a very tough winter.  Actually for any human living in the Northeast, this has been a very tough winter.  I’m not sure which is worse for running: mountains of snow, black ice, or temperatures in the teens.  Ah, what’s the difference?  They have all sucked.  Now take a runner who is very rigid in her plans and tell her that every week she is going to have to juggle around her running schedule to accommodate whichever part of the polar vortex is messing with us at that particular moment.  It’s not pretty, and makes for one very discouraged runner by the end of February.

I know that this winter has gotten to me.  I’m tired of running on the treadmill, or biking on my bike trainer because school is closed – again – so I have to stay home with the kids and can’t even get to my gym in the City.  Feel free to call it Seasonal Affective Disorder, but I prefer the term I’ve coined myself: “Cold, Snowy Winters Suck and Make Runners Grumpy.”  Hey, might as well call it what it is.

I have become addicted to weather websites, where about every 10 minutes I check to see what the temperatures and odds of precipitation are going to be the next morning when I’m supposed to go out for a run.  Most days I see a forecast of frigid temps or yet another blizzard, and I slip a little further into my “Cold, Snowy Winters Suck and Make Runners Grumpy.”  Then I look at my training schedule for the week and change it up again.  OK, I can’t run outside tomorrow, so I’ll have to turn my 3 and 5 mile runs into one 6 mile run three days from now. Or, I do my weekly long runs on a treadmill before I go to work in the morning.  Yup, while normal people are sleeping, this girl and her type “A” personality are running 10 miles on a treadmill before getting to work by 8 in the morning.

Queens Half, 2011.  Hottest race I've done.

On Friday, though, I was treated to a pleasant surprise.  Every weather website (because I checked several of them just to be sure) was stating that Saturday was going to be sunny and about 50 degrees.  Not 15.  50.  Five-oh.  My training plan called for a 10 mile run this weekend and 12 for next weekend, but looking at the weather for the week ahead, I did not see another outdoor running day this month.  So, me, little Miss Rigid when it comes to changing plans, decided to do my 12 mile run this Saturday.

When I woke up, it was 30 degrees, and though that’s not awful for an outdoor run, it is not the freedom from this winter that I was looking for.  So, I did a resistance band workout and ran some errands, saving my run for the afternoon (which I rarely do.  All of my runs are scheduled before God himself usually wakes up).  At close to noon, I stepped outside in just running tights, a long sleeved shirt and running gloves.  Before I stepped off my porch I ditched the gloves, and though I started off a bit colder than I would have wanted to, I quickly warmed up and was as happy as a pig in – well, you know.

I really wasn’t prepped for a 12 mile run, but I thought a tough run in fabulous weather was a lot better than a doable run in what could be mistaken for the Arctic Circle.  And I was right.  The first 6 miles were a breeze, and the last 6 were physical torture, but I never lost the smile on my face.  I even got annoyed with myself at one point when I realized that I had a good pace and I wasn’t going to be running outside for as long as I had anticipated.  I felt like I was a kid playing Monopoly, and had decided to use my “Get Out of Jail Free” card.

One problem, though, was that even in just those running tights and long sleeved shirt (sans running gloves), I was overdressed and hot.  But I was just happy that I could feel my extremities and that ice crystals weren’t forming in the water I was carrying, so I didn’t care.  What I thought was funny is that all of the dozen or so other runners that I saw were as overdressed as I was: long tights, hats, heavy sweatshirts.  It was comforting to know that I wasn’t the only one who didn’t completely trust the forecasts.  The other runners all looked as drunk on the sunshine as I was.  I waved at one guy as we passed each other and he yelled out “Great day for a run!”  Another time a runner and I got caught at the same red light, and he turned to me and said, “Finally a good running day.  We earned this.”  Yes, we had. 

Brooklyn Marathon, 2013.  Pouring rain.

I got home from my run and was high on the endorphins for hours, even after I ate everything that wasn’t nailed down, took a nap, and had my leg muscles tell me what they thought about running 2 miles more than my training plan said I was ready to do.  I didn’t care.  It was such a great day for a run.

Next week’s weather forecast is still horrible.  Tomorrow’s high is going to be 30 degrees colder than today, and when I wake up on Tuesday morning it’s predicted to be 15 degrees.  Not 50.  15. One-five.  I really don’t see another outdoor run in the next 10 days, and next weekend I may not get my long run in at all.  But that’s OK.  I just have to be flexible.