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.

11 Things You May Not Know About Me, Running Edition

In honor (if that’s the right word) of that Facebook meme about “things you may not know about me,” I thought I’d have a bit of fun and mention 11 unusual facts about myself. My focus here is narrower. Of course it’s about running, but it’s specifically about things that others runners may commonly experience that I rarely (if ever) do.

In more than 18 years of running, I have never…

• Lost a toenail. I get blood blisters, but I’ve never lost a toenail. Haven’t even come close.
• Puked after a workout. I dry heaved once, but that was it. (My stomach’s pretty strong; aside from nights of bacchanalian excess, I haven’t been sick to my stomach in more than 20 years.)
• Recorded a DNF. I’ve thought about it, of course, but I have too much pride.
• Won. I placed third in a few high school races, and I’ve placed third in my age group in a handful of small suburban races, but nothing better than that.
• Entered a race on a whim. I need to plan -- even if it’s for the two-mile Fourth of July race in my hometown that’s less road race and more impromptu reunion.

And I have only once…

• Lost time due to an injury. I had runner’s knee in college and took about three weeks off. I wasn’t stretching enough. Now I stretch after every run, as well as on my off days when I know I need it, and as a result I stay mostly pain-free. (Point of order: I typically take about two weeks off after a marathon and did the same for my wedding and honeymoon.)
• Finished a run with bloody nipples. Suffice to say this is a lesson you don’t soon forget.
• Skipped a race I signed up for. It was a half marathon a few years ago, and I convinced myself I was in such bad shape that I’d bonk and embarrass myself. Frankly, skipping the race was more embarrassing. (Oddly, since my friend ran and picked up my packet for me, I have the race shirt. It’s quite comfortable.)
• Done an entire run shirtless. It was a 10-mile race on a 100-degree day. (Why not more often? A doffed shirt makes an excellent seat rag. And I am pasty white.)
• Run barefoot. For some reason, I did a cooldown after a particularly disappointing high school cross country race with my shoes in my hands. That was pretty stupid.My teammates, to their credit, let me suffer in silence.
• Run outdoors while wearing headphones. (I was reminded of this during a social media conversation.) I remember it well, actually: Just after buying myself an iPod, I ran a loop around Lake Quannapowitt, plus the mile or so to get there and come home to my old apartment, and listened to Monster. (I skipped "Tongue." My least favorite R.E.M. song.) Music made me run too damn fast. I still listen to headphones on the rare occasion I run on a treadmill, but I don't run with headphones any more.  

Here’s hoping that I haven’t jinxed myself and end up failing to finish my next race (which I happen to be winning despite signing up that very morning) by snapping my IT band so badly that I tear a toenail off and gross myself out so much that I throw up. 

What do you do, or avoid doing, or have only done once, that makes you a unique runner?

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.

Set Your New Year's Running Resolutions Now

I never understood the point of New Year’s resolutions. Sure, you’re turning the calendar, and sure, a stressful holiday season is ending, but Jan. 1 ranks among the worst days to start something anew. It’s often cold, there’s not much sunlight, it’s a holiday, most people are hung over, and there’s about 14 hours of college football to be watched. It’s very easy to put off until tomorrow what you just don’t feel like doing today. 

That’s why I’m formulating my running resolutions now. I’m more than a month removed from my marathon, and about two weeks out from a half. I’ve entered a Twilight Zone of sorts. Family obligations make a Turkey Trot impossible this year, and the next marathon I’m targeting isn’t until May, so for the next few weeks I have nothing for which to train. 

Most of you, I imagine, are in the same boat, having just finished a fall marathon or other milestone race and started to wonder what’s next. Now -- not Jan. 1 -- is the time to start setting firm goals. 

Here are mine, along with a bit of advice if you’re planning to do the same. 

Join a running club. I very well may wait until the new year to start, as that’s when marathon training will commence, but it’s finally gonna happen. Those of you who need a jolt of motivation, or at the very least a break from ennui, need not wait. 

Run a marathon PR. I was off by 19 seconds last time. 

Run another PR. Haven’t picked a distance yet. I fell short of a PR in both half marathons I ran in 2013, but I did run my fastest 10K. We’ll see what happens. (It won’t count, I’ve decided, if I race at a brand-new distance such as a 15K or, as I saw around Halloween, 6.66 miles.) 

Run 1,200 miles. In the days before dailymile, when I logged mileage in a yearly planner and notebook, I hit 1,000 miles a few times. (I think. Those notebooks are long gone.)  I’ll come close this year but miss the mark. Next year, I plan to run two marathons, so 1,000 should be easy. But 1,200 may be a stretch. 

Strengthen my hips. In my last marathon, my hips started to hurt about 16 miles in. (Who am I kidding? I have no idea when it was.) This happened during training, too, so I know it’s something to focus on. I’ve added hip stretches to my post-run routine and my off-day cross-training exercises. If any muscles or joints have been giving you similar trouble, now’s the time to start giving them some TLC and build their strength.  

Throw out a bunch of old, disgusting running shirts. You probably should, too. Admit it: You have a few in the back of your closet. If you can’t bear the thought of losing them, you can use them to wash your car, or clean up nasty spills, or line the beds your pets sleep on. Just don’t wear them in public anymore, OK? 

Yes, setting goals now is a bit unconventional, given societal norms and all. But I know I’m more likely to keep running through the holiday season, and on Jan. 1, 2014, if I have clear goals in mind for the year ahead. Without resolutions in mind, there’s less reason to head out for a run on a cold, possibly snowy day. 

Have any of you thought about your running goals for 2014 yet? If you haven’t, now’s a good time to start, before the holiday season begins and no one has time to think about anything. If you have, great. Start putting them into action.

What to Do When You Don't PR in Every Race Any More

Everyone registers for road races for different reasons. Some aim for a PR. Others want to take in the sights and sounds of a unique course. Some run in memory of a loved one. Some live for the challenge of big hills or extreme temperatures. Others still just run for the hell of it.

This weekend’s Ashland Half & 5K fell into the “just for the hell of it” category. I’d run the Smuttynose Rockfest Marathon three weeks before, and “trained” all of three times since that race -- if you count a jog around the neighborhood, a 7.5-mile “long run” and a fartlek half marathon training. I knew this would be the case when I registered, mind you. I ran because a) the starting line is at the official, before-a-marathon-was-26.2-miles starting line for the Boston Marathon and b) it’s a small local race, and I like to support small local races.

My goal for this race was little more than maintaining a steady pace. I had no intention of running a half marathon PR -- the course was hilly (at least for eastern Massachusetts) and, well, I was still three weeks removed from a marathon. (I’m not badass enough to truly race like that. Yet.) But keeping a pace, I thought, I could handle. It would do me good, too, since I tend to hit the wall in long races.

For the most part, I did in fact maintain a 7-minute pace. There were a couple fast ones in there, yes, and a couple slow ones, but I was right around 70 minutes when I crossed the 10-mile mark.

Then I turned up Green Street. I’d examined the elevation map for the race, and I knew there was a notable hill in the second half of the race, but I didn’t remember where, exactly, or how steep. (OK, maybe I hadn’t “examined” so much as “casually glanced at in the car.”) That hill hurt. I slowed to a virtual crawl and gave up all hope of catching the guy in front of me. (I may have been running just for the hell of it, but that doesn’t mean my competitive streak took the day off.)

During miles 11 and 12, my pace dropped to 7:30 per mile. Admittedly, I was frustrated. Then again, I hadn’t seen such hills in several weeks (the Smuttynose course is remarkably flat). So I adjusted my goal; mile 13 needed to come in at 7 minutes, I declared.

I did. The last 1.1 miles came in under 8 minutes. I crossed the line a few seconds shy of 1:33. That’s several minutes off my half marathon PR, so I’m not exactly beaming with pride, but I am pleased with my ability to maintain a consistent pace for 10 miles and then pick it up after a couple tough miles.

Not every race you run needs to end in a PR. Your first race will be a PR, of course, as will the ones that follow; you’re just starting out, after all, and you’re getting acclimated to this whole running thing.

Soon, though, you won’t beat your best time. It usually means one of two things: You’ve had an off day (whether it’s due to adverse conditions, inadequate training, sudden injuries or overactive bowels) or you’ve hit a peak.

Either scenario is easy to overcome. If you had a bad day, examine what exactly went wrong and take a few lessons away. I did it with my worst marathon and, less than a year later, nearly ran my best marathon and beat the time I ran when I was 21. (If you can’t pinpoint a particular problem, talk to a friend.) If you’ve peaked -- if your times at the same distance are consistently within a minute or so -- then it’s time to take your training to the next level with speed work, cross training and a heightened sense of dedication.

In my case, the Ashland Half was an intentional off day. I didn’t train enough, especially since the course had more hills than I bargained for. No big deal. I know what to do next time. More importantly, I know my tired legs can handle 7-minute pace -- my goal for my next marathon -- for at least 10 miles and can get back to it even if the going gets a little tough. That lesson, frankly, is better than a PR to me.

Yes, Rest For the Weary

For many runners, “rest” is a four-letter word in more ways than one. Skipping a workout is anathema; taking time off, abject failure.

I understand where these feelings come from and can sympathize. In high school, we ran six days a week -- rain, snow or shine -- and hit the gym four times a week. We ran through coughs, colds, aches and pains. (In hindsight, many of us peaked in midseason but fell apart when conference championships and state meets came around.)

This run every day, balls-to-the-wall mindset remained with me for years, through college and beyond. Getting better, and reaching the lofty goals I set for myself, meant constantly pushing myself, day after day after day. Missing a workout -- just one -- would foul everything up. I was a runner, for cryin’ out loud. I was supposed to run all the time.

That has changed. Within the last year or so, I’ve learned to accept the power of rest. In fact, I’m writing this in the midst of a work week when I may not run at all, even though I have a half marathon tomorrow.

What happened? Well, life happened. When I started training for the Smuttynose Marathon, I had every intention of doing every workout in my Run Less, Run Faster program down to the letter. Then my wife spent the better part of two weeks in the hospital (she’s fine now), weeds took over my backyard and the second job started giving me eight-hour shifts every Saturday. Suffice to say, even running three days a week turned into a struggle. (Luckily, the second job requires enough heavy lifting and remaining on my feet to qualify, unofficially, as cross training.)

I decided to roll with it. My previous marathon had gone so horribly, horribly wrong, I reckoned, that even a half-assed effort would be an improvement. Looking at my training log, I decided to focus primarily on speed work and long runs. I was easily exceeding the pace goals for my tempo runs, so if I had a bad week, and I needed to cut one of my three weekly runs, that was the one. I also modified some speed workouts when pressed for time, since, well, half a speed workout is better than no speed workout. Finally, I slogged through my 20-mile runs, even though all three occurred in typical New England summer humidity.

In the end, it worked. Resting when I needed to helped me get more out of my key workouts. Crucially, I didn’t get sick. I also took it easy when nagging pain came on -- in my hips, once, and then again in my quad -- and didn’t let it derail all the hard work I’d put in up to that point. As a result, I avoided injury, too.

Was it easy? No, but it got better. Strange as it sounds, not being able to run when my wife was in the hospital probably worked to my advantage, training-wise; my thoughts were focused elsewhere, so staring at a gaping hole in my training was the least of my concerns. When my hips and quads ached, yes, I ranked among the downtrodden, but stretching and using a foam roller on my days off actually made my rest a bit more productive. Working as hard as I did made it easy to avoid taper madness, too, since I was ready to wind down and prepare myself for my race.

Like I said, this epiphany didn’t come easily. I’ve been running for 18 years, and it took 17 of them to realize that it’s OK to take an unscheduled rest day when you feel like crap. Yes, it sucks to look at your calendar through weary eyes and realize you’re putting off your Yasso 800s for another day, but if you’ll barely make it to the track, is there really any point in doing your workout at all?

(For the sake of perspective: When I skipped my workouts, I was usually so tired that, instead of getting up to get dressed for my run, I ended up falling asleep on the couch. Or, for runs slated for the morning, I was so tired that I took a sick day and slept until noon. That’s what I mean by “feel like crap,” not “I had a bad day at work” or “Gee, it’s starting to rain, I guess I’d better not run today.”)

Part of running’s beauty is its flexibility. Too damn tired to run today? Give yourself time to rest and do it tomorrow. Feeling a tweak in your hip? Stretch it like hell, foam roll it and take it easy in your first couple workouts. (Note: There is no innuendo-free way to foam roll the inside of your hip.)

The road’s not going anywhere -- and neither are your running shoes. Minor setbacks are an inevitable part of training. The key is to take them seriously, and respond to them accordingly, before they become major setbacks that derail your training altogether.

Autumn Running Is Awesome, So Make the Most of It

It's mid-October, which means New England is enjoying autumn: The pumpkin-flavored everything, the postseason baseball and the near-perfect running weather. It's chilly in the morning and evening, but you can still get away with wearing shorts and a T-shirt, and warm and sunny in the afternoon.

Autumn is my favorite season for running. Honestly, it's not even close. That awesome weather brings welcome relief after suffering through the summer. (Yes, other parts of the country are warmer, and more humid, but those parts of the country aren't full of people too stubborn to accept that sometimes it's just too damn hot to be outside.) The foliage makes for stunning scenery, too.

Autumn , it should be noted, differs from spring. Yes, spring starts cold and gets warmer, but the threat of a freak snowstorm looms over us until mid-April. (My mother tells a story of snow interrupting my brother's birthday party one May in the 70s.) The eventually melting snow begets mud, too, which is more widespread than you'd imagine because of all the sand used to keep roads and sidewalks free of snow. And New England spring realistically only lasts a few weeks; by Memorial Day, summer has arrived. (I've previously described why I dislike summer running, so I won't rehash it here.)

Autumn, on the other hand, provides a slow, gradual progression toward winter. This makes it easy to get acclimated to dropping temperatures -- first by enjoying them and then by dressing for them.

Here are a few ways to make the most of your autumn runs.

Especially if you're new to running, you can use the fall to see how your body reacts to cold temperatures. Try different layers, different hats and gloves, and different pants, and remember that, uncomfortable though it may be, you should be a little cold when your run starts.

Sign up for some races. October and early November are increasingly popular marathon dates, but the later weeks of November and December are filled with shorter race options. These races will serve several purposes: They'll give you goals to focus on, they'll keep you active as the holiday season commences, and, crucially, they'll lay the foundation for running through the winter.

If your races are in fact shorter, use the opportunity to cross train. Hit the bike, the gym, the indoor pool or the backyard. This will work different muscle groups, which in the long run will improve your running, and it will make things a bit more interesting. (You can even count yardwork as cross-training, provided your yard is big enough.)

Try to work out at different times. Because autumn weather is so cooperative, you can run at any time of day without fear of overheating at lunch or freezing in the morning or at night. Daylight Savings Time brings an earlier sunrise, too, so it's not quite as hard to drag yourself out of bed. Darkness does come earlier, yes, but the crisp fall air makes up for it. This also gives you a chance to see how well you acclimate to wearing a headlamp, vest and other reflective gear -- all of which are essential for safe nighttime running.

So there you have it. Get out there and enjoy the fall weather before winter comes -- though, as I will write in a couple months, winter running has its own advantages, too.

(Note: If you live in the Southern Hemisphere, please bookmark this and read it in six months.)