Don't Be Afraid to Run Naked (At the Wrist, That Is)

At my day job, covering technology, there’s a lot of talk about fitness apps and fitness gadgets and wearable tech and, in the context of healthcare, the quantified self. (Full disclosure: I contributed to the hype by creating a list of tech for the athletes on your Christmas list. To further prove I am a sellout, I made it a slideshow, too.)

There’s definitely value in tracking all this data. When you’re training, you need to make sure you’re hitting the right pace and distance -- and, frankly, it’s much easier to log that information and study it later if it comes from a fancy watch or smartphone. (Full disclosure, again, which makes sense since I put "naked" in the headline: I track my runs using dailymile.)

However, there’s also a downside to having so much data. It’s easy to fret over, especially when targets are missed. It doesn’t take into account that, say, your tempo run in 22-degree weather on snow- and ice-covered sidewalks couldn’t possibly happen at goal pace (as has been the case so often this winter). It’s not just times, too; steps taken in a day, miles run in a month, weight lost (or gained) or other numbers can quickly become obsessions -- and the problem can be further exacerbated when all this information gets shared on social media sites.

I fully recognize the benefit to aggregating and sharing this information. If you've started, and especially if you've started as a means of motivation, there's no point in returning to the 20th century and "guessing" how far, fast and long you've run.

Every once in a while, though, it pays to unplug. On an easy day, the watch stays home. On the first few runs after my post-marathon rest, the watch stays home. On days when the weather's terrible, and pace goals go out the window, the watch stays home (or freezes). On a rushed race day, the watch (often accidentally) stays home.

Running unplugged offers a few benefits. It helps to run "by feel," without constantly staring at your watch. It prepares you for situations when your watch fails you. It lets you clear your head, since you're not focusing on every little detail of your run. It lets you enjoy the scenery. It lets you return to your roots, to the freedom of running around your backyard or park for hours as a child, and appreciate our sport even more.

It certainly isn't easy. Like any routine, running with a watch is a hard habit to break. But if you have an easy run in your future, it might be worth leaving the watch behind and just seeing what happens.

Who knows? It just might be the start of a new routine.

Running in the Cold: Hey, You, Cover Up!

A while back I wrote a post about running in the dark and promised to follow it up with one about running in the cold. Now seems like the good time, what with the Polar Vortex threatening to envelop us all and derail our spring marathon training plans.

Above all, don't be a hero. If it's really freaking cold, just stay inside. You can always run another day. (How cold "really freaking cold" happens to be is going to be a matter of opinion, geography, mental stability and what your spouse/partner tells you. For me, it's somewhere around 0 degrees Fahrenheit.)

Cover your head. Nothing frustrates me more than seeing people (runners or otherwise) out and about on cold days without a hat. I pretty mush wear one whenever the temperature dips below 50 degrees -- I have big ears, plus I get cold very easily -- and I tell myself that's a big part of the reason I typically make it through the winter without getting sick. It's worth investing in a good hat that will keep you warm without trapping so much heat that you need to doff the hat because it's wet, sweaty and gross.

Cover your hands, too. This goes without saying, really. If it's really cold, go with two pairs of gloves. Most of the time, I wear cheap grocery store bargain bin gloves -- that way, I don't feel guilty when I rub snot on them -- but when it gets below 20 degrees I need to break out the big guns.


Try not to overdress on your long runs. You're gonna start sweating as you run, and then your sweat will freeze, and then you'll get cold. The conventional wisdom says to dress for a temperature that are 15 to 20 degrees warmer than it actually is. If it's 30 degrees, for example, dress as though it's 50. Yes, you'll be cold for the first mile or so, but that will change quickly. Don't forget about win,d too.

On your short runs, though, who cares? If you're not going to be outside for more than, say, 45 minutes, you're probably OK overdressing a bit -- especially if that extra layer is the difference between making it out the door and staying on the couch.

Generally speaking, for shorter runs, I generally wear two layers if it's in the 40s and 30s, three layers if it's in the 20s and teens, and four layers if it's in single digits. (Again, I get cold easily.) The layer closest to my chest is a moisture wicking one, but after that I'm not afraid to wear cotton. (I know this is uncouth, but I have a soft spot in my heart for cotton hoodies.) For long runs, I play it a bit differently and also stick to wicking shirts, since I sweat a lot more.

Stay thirsty, my friends. You still need to hydrate. It's definitely tougher -- on one long run a couple years ago, the water inside the bottle I was carrying up and froze on me -- but it needs to be done. Bonus: If it's cold out, there's probably also snow, and if it's clean, you can eat it! Score!

Pace yourself. Don't make your first cold-weather run a 20-miler at marathon pace. It's been a while since you first ran in the cold. Overdress a bit, run around the neighborhood and remember what it's like before you start doing serious workouts in the cold.

Maintain perspective. If you're training for the Hyannis Marathon, the Lake Effect Half Marathon or even a St. Patrick's Day 5K, then yes, you'll need to stop making excuses and start running in the cold. If your target race is somewhere warm, or in the spring, then you don't really need to acclimate to below-freezing temperatures. My marathon is in May, so while I know I have cold weather runs in my future, I also won't feel too guilty about rescheduling key workouts to days when the conditions are better.

I'll still feel guilty, of course, because running in the cold makes you tough, and I like to think that I am tough.

A Man Without Goals Is No Kind of Man

The four (or so) of you who are regular readers may (or may not) have noticed that I went about a month between posts.

My bad.

Admittedly, I was busy, what with two weddings over Thanksgiving and a recent vacation to Disney World. But, hey, it’s 2013, so I very well could have set up a couple auto-publish posts, right?

Travel notwithstanding, I got hit with a nice case of writer’s block. I know why, too. I’m not training for anything. I have a spring marathon all but lined up, and I am probably going to do a 5K in the first week of 2014, but hasn’t been a race circled with a black marker on my calendar to keep me moving.

Part of this is by design, given, you know, the aforementioned travel. Working a second job in retail this time of year doesn’t help, either. Nor do repeat sets of shoveling the driveway. Still, I should be hittin’ the road at least three times a week. If nothing else, it keeps me sane.

I’ve written before about setting goals and using them as motivation in tough times (“tough” being a relative term here). I’ve been a bit of a hypocrite, though. At the moment, I am a man without goals.

The obvious question here: Why? Maybe running 13.1 miles three weeks after running 26.2 left me a bit burned out. Maybe my schedule sucks. Maybe the weather sucks. Maybe I just didn’t feel like it.

There are elements of truth in all four answers. The first three are pretty obvious. As for the fourth: I was ready, for the first time in months, after carefully recording each workout, to just run for the hell of it.

You know what? It didn’t work. I apparently need the level of accountability that comes with tracking each mile, each interval and each split. When I didn’t have access to a computer (read: Didn’t feel like booting it up), I scribbled my distance and time on a slip of paper. Without a goal, I have no real way of knowing if those distances and times are anywhere near the mark, either.

Could a coach help? Sure. What about joining a running club? That, too. Ultimately, though, the motivation’s gotta come from within -- and for me at least, that motivation won’t come without a goal.

So maybe I’ll finally sign up for that marathon, and maybe I’ll get my butt in gear to make sure I break 20 minutes in that 5K on Jan. 5. Either way, I will let the four (or so) of you know.

No Run Is Worth an Ambulance Ride, Winter Edition

A few months ago, in the midst of a heat wave, I said that no run is worth an ambulance ride. Dial it back when the mercury rises, I said, and don’t push yourself too hard. As I watch snow fall for the second time in four days, I’m reminded of this principle again.

I went to bed last night with every intention of running in the morning, only to wake up at 7 a.m. to a temperature of 0 degrees. “Not worth it,” I said, hitting snooze and rolling over. But, of course, I regretted my decision and contemplated an afternoon run in the falling snow. “It’ll make me feel like a kid again!” I told myself, daydreaming as I stared at my monitor.

Then I remembered my advice, which I also relayed to an acquaintance feeling similar frustration with winter weather. The cold’s actually the least of your problems -- the ice, the road conditions, the wetness and the lack of visibility are far bigger issues. Give the plows, the emergency personnel and the folks who absolutely need to be on the road their space. It’s not worth the risk. You can always run another day.

If you’re feeling stir crazy, as I was this afternoon, you can always do some squats, lunges and core work. Oh, and there’s shoveling. Always shoveling.

Running in the Dark: Be Bright (See What I Did There?)

The onset of winter presents two challenges to runners: Running in the cold and running in the dark. I’d planned on addressing the cold first, but then the cold snap that hit New England departed with little fanfare, and I thought it might be odd to write about cold weather running when I’m hitting the road while wearing shorts. So darkness it is. 

As I’ve noted before, I’m not a morning runner, so my “darkness running” occurs in the evening. That said, these tips apply to morning or evening runs, both of which are likely going to be in the dark until March. (Running at night is significantly easier than gardening at night, that's for sure.)

Be bright. Wear a headlamp and a vest. Little blinking lights are optional. (Where I live, there are enough streetlights that it's not pitch black, so I don't need them.) The more ridiculous you look, the better. That way, drivers can actually see you.

Stick to a well-known route. The routes I run in the dark are routes I've done dozens of times -- so much so that I know where to find the cracks in the sidewalk. This serves a dual purpose: You're not gonna get lost in the dark, and you're not gonna get hurt. (The headlamp shouldn't necessarily light your way -- it's more for oncoming traffic.)

Be safe. Run with a buddy. Avoid dodgy areas. Stick to well-lit roads. Cross the street when a) there are no cars coming and b) you are under a streetlight, in case a car manages to come out of nowhere.

Don't go crazy. Most of my nighttime runs aren't insane workouts. I save my long runs for daytime, for example, as well as my long tempo runs. But I'll do a short tempo run or fartlek workout in the dark, since there's much less chance of bonking.

Fuel appropriately. If you're running at a time when you usually eat dinner, you're obviously going to be hungry. Have a carb- and protein-rich snack an hour and a half or so before your run so you don't spend the duration of the workout listening to your stomach growl like an angry dog.

Tell folks where you're going. Let your spouse, roommates, parents or close friends know how long you're going to be gone and where, roughly, you plan to go. Granted, you should do this all the time, but your loved ones are going to worry about you more when you run in the dark, no matter how garishly bright your gear.

Running in the dark doesn't have to be difficult -- or, for that matter, different. A little bit of advanced preparation and scheduling will go a long ay.