On Sunday, I hit a local running store and (finally) bought a wind-resistant jacket, balaclava and new pair of Asics.
It’s been warm in Minnesota lately. (You know you’re from Minnesota when you classify high 30s to low 40s as “warm.”) Anyway, last night it got cold: in the teens with the windchill. Normally, when it’s that cold, I don’t even try to run outside. But I have new cold weather gear! I threw on my new black jacket with reflective piping, my black balaclava and my dorky-ass reflective vest and went for a 42-minute (4 mile) run.
Before heading out the door, I took a quick peek in the mirror; I looked like a terrorist! If it weren’t for the dorky reflective vest I think I would have wondered about the getup, had I seen myself running in the pitch black of an early Minnesota winter evening.
Breathing through a balaclava is tough. Any other runners have this problem? I felt like I wasn’t getting the amount of air I should be…
Between the balaclava, the wind and my new shoes, it was a mostly uncomfortable run. I was completely warm, but felt like I was suffocating and my new shoes caused me some shin and Achilles pain. The discomfort caused by new shoes is to be expected; they have to be broken in. Last night’s run reminded me of something I read by (IIRC) George Sheehan, the late great runner-philosopher. He said that what kept him running was the mystery of what makes some runs great and others craptacular. Last night’s run was crapfrikkintacular. It’s been quite a while since I’ve had one feel that bad.
::whine whine bitch bitch moan moan pule::
Any other runners have cold weather advice? Cold weather stories to share? Good vs. bad run stories to share?
Sorry Gazelle. Here I am now.
Ummm. I don’t run outside when it’s coldy-woldy. It’s all dark and stuff and I freeze my toesy-woesies, and my nose gets all runny, and I feel like Nanook of the North.
Then I start going fast, and I get way to hot and sweaty underneath my layers, but if I take them off the sweat freezes, and because there’s snow and ice on the road the footin is unsafe, and the roads are narrow and I’m really fraidy scared of getting hit by a car.
Instead, I run on the treadmill while watching a movie (I’m watching the Sopranos 3rd season now) or do the climber. I lift weights, and punch Irving, my punching bag man (when my daughter’s not looking.)
I shall now call you a wimp for not participating in cold weather running. Wimp!
Do you ever experience shin splints when you run on a treadmill for too long and then return to the great outdoors? Or is the weather usually warm enough where you are?
I have nothing useful to add; I tend to agree with Garfield on the subject of jogging.
However, I had to share a description I read recently of the Norwegian settlement of Longyearbyen, on the godforsaken Arctic outpost of Spitsbergen: “It’s one of very few places in the world where you can walk into the bank wearing a balaclava (for the cold) and carrying a rifle (for the polar bears) and nobody will raise an eyebrow.”
Running in San Diego really does not prepare one for cold weather. Trust me.
Christmas this year was spent in Idyllwild, which is a small community in the mountains about an hour and a half away from here. Elevation probably 5,000-6,000 feet. When we were there, snow was on the ground, having fallen a few days before. It started to melt slightly while we were there, so temps were probably in the high 30s. Not sure what overnight lows were - maybe teens to twenties.
At any rate, we set out for a run. I’ve got running pants, a long sleeved shirt, running gloves, and a very thin wind jacket. That’s it. That’s all I NEED for San Diego running. Thankfully Peanut has been running longer than I have, and thus had some knit caps.
I found the look not so much terrorist-esque. More like a black condom.
scoutybaby, just 'cause you live on the west coast now, don’t mean you ain’t nevah run in no cold weather.
Don’t make me come out to San Diego to whoop your ass.
Thanks for sharing the pictures! I’ll get El Hubbo to take a picture of me in full regalia the next time I go for a late night cold-as-shit run. You: Black Condom. Me: Terrorista.
On an unrelated note, why haven’t they let us go home yet?