It looks bigger in metric

It's no secret to almost anyone in North America that this winter has sucked. In terms like "40% more snow than average" and "23 cold days where we usually average 6" (NB: I have no idea how they define "cold day", since there's only been 1 day above the freezing mark in 2014 that I remember), it may not be the suckiest winter that ever sucked, but it's been pretty brutal.

Nonetheless, I have been out there running.

Iced up eyelashes, here I come!

While slipping & sliding on ice, trudging through deep snow, a nasty brush with frostbite and enduring more evenings at -10c/14f or below than I can ever recall, I've actually managed to break my mileage record for February. I finally pulled off, despite missing 1 planned run due to a very late night at the office, an average of 50km / 31mi per week for the whole month...for a total of 200.89km / 124.83mi.

Triumph!

Through sheer bloody-mindedness, I've amassed a pretty solid base since the beginning of January, which has me wondering if I shouldn't take this just a tad further than my original Around the Bay campaign idea. Y'see, I ran unheard-of mileage in 2013 - a grand total of 2,138.3km / 1,328.7mi - and really felt like I made some progress as a (still rather mediocre) runner. I pulled off a sub-2-hour half marathon and a sub-3-hour 30k almost solely on the basis of a pantload of miles, and I'm on a decent track for this spring as well.

I ran something like 621km from Jan 1-Mar 31 in 2013, but that was an easy winter.

2012 was the last year that I ran Around the Bay, coming off an injury in early January and trying to tackle the horrible hills of Hamilton on a "long" run of only 18k. I've already banked a couple of 20+km runs in the last couple of weeks, with more to come before I do what will likely be a 2-week taper come mid-March. I'm less than 20k away from my total 3-month prep of 2012, and feeling pretty good about my odds of improving my 3:04:22 finish time.

There's one other PR that I'd really like to work on, though, and I think the timing may be right.

Look at that 2011 mileage. I can top that by the end of this weekend, if my planned runs work out. Look at the distribution, too - almost half of it run in March, like someone suddenly panicking when they realise they have a long race coming and haven't done the work.

Like someone who has totally and utterly failed to respect what a full marathon really takes.

Oh gawd..

It was May 1st, 2011 when I toed the line of my first and only attempt on the 42.2km of pain that is the road marathon - at Waterloo, which isn't really for the faint of heart. I only put in another 171-odd kilometers in April, bringing my 4 month base up to a paltry 575km - less than I put in last year during my half-marathon campaign. I paid for my laziness in the hard coin of race-day pain, nighmarishly sore legs for days afterward, and a time that rankles to this day.

4:37:53. Almost 8mins slower than my goal at the time, and almost 9 minutes over the Oprah line.

Blecch.

Moving so slowly a sign grew out of my head.

Based on last year's Midsummer Night's Run 30k result, the McMillan running calculator says I should have a 4:15:xx marathon in me...if I do the work. It's exactly 4 weeks after Around the Bay, which actually gives me a bit more recovery time than I had between the Run for the Toad 50k and Horror Hill 6-hour last fall. The final hilly miles of Around the Bay make it a pretty ideal training run for the Waterloo Marathon, and will ensure I get in at least a 30k long run before the marathon. I might even be able to sneak in a 20-miler in the four week interim. Really, though, I think the additional 3 years of base mileage and the knowledge that I've run more than full marathon distance several times now is what will see me through. That, and keeping up the good training I've put in so far this year.

After all, it's only 26.2 miles...right?

Hanging in

..and dreaming of spring.

Just 27 more days to vernal equinox!

Which, of course, means just 37 days until Around the Bay.

Deep breaths..

Seems Like Science: Soggy isn't sexy

So Tuesday night I headed out for a run. I checked my phone, which said it was -15c/5f, and dressed what I thought was appropriately. I had a merino wool longsleeve shirt and socks, my usual winter jacket, hat, face cover/neck gaiter and a pair of polar fleece pants. I decided that since it wasn't -20c or anything, I could probably get away with just a pair of knicks (tights that come to just below the knee) instead of full longjohns under the pants.

I ran for a little less than an hour, and was a little amused when I finished to see that my legs had iced up on the outside of the fleece pants, but only on the outside above the knee.

I was distinctly less amused when I got out of my now-wet clothes after coming inside and discovered that my lower legs looked like this:

Son of a diddly!

For a few minutes I couldn't understand why this would happen - the air wasn't that cold and my legs hadn't actually been exposed since they'd had the fleece pants covering them, overlapping my socks. The knickers were just plain lycra/spandex stuff, not designed to provide insulation. What the actual hell had gone on to bring me dangerously near frostbite between my ankles and knees? How had my winter running know-how failed me?

Finally, realisation dawned. It was all because of SCIENCE!

As I'd been running, I'd started to sweat a bit. It's a thing that happens. The knicks (and, for that matter, my socks) had done an effective job of transporting the moisture away from my skin and out through the hydrophobic polyester fibres of my fleece pants. When it made contact with the frigid air (which actually turned out to be -21c/-6f, as the weather app on my phone hadn't updated the home screen display when I checked), it then froze up, resulting in the fuzzy-looking ice coating on my leg. This is all well and good, and I'm going to assume it only happens on the side & back of my leg because the wind chill of my own forward motion keeps the front of my quads from sweating as much.

The problem with my lower legs is that the loose fit of the pants meant there was no fabric in direct contact with the skin, which meant no moisture transport. Instead of being wicked away, the sweat just sat on my skin and was chilled by the cold air. In summer, that would be considered "doing its job" - the evaporative cooling effect of sweat on skin is what allows humans to run long distances, and can be seen as a major driving factor in our species' evolution. In winter, though, it can be really dangerous!

Scumbag water.

While air itself can act as an insulating layer, it has to be in a closed environment that severely limits the entry of cold air (or rather, loss of heat) and the loose, open bottom cuffs of the fleece pants just couldn't cut it. An elastic band around the bottom of each would have made a huge difference, as the trapped warmth of my body would have prevented the sweat from trying to freeze on my skin. This is a big reason why clothing made for cold conditions generally includes elastic, hook-and-loop or drawstrings at cuffs and hems in order to lock in your body's warmth. Heck, if I'd even tucked the bottom of my pants into the cuffs of my socks I probably wouldn't be writing this, though I may have risked arrest by the fashion police.

You may be thinking to yourself that if I'd been fitter, maybe I wouldn't have sweat as much on that run. Au contraire, mon frère! While everyone's sweat rate will be slightly different, by and large fit people will actually sweat sooner and more copiously than unfit people. It's part of that awesome adaptation that lets us work harder and longer without raising our core temperature past the point at which we'd start to break down.

So, where does this leave me?

The next night I headed out in virtually identical weather: it was -20c/-4f with similar wind, and I dressed identically to the night before with the exception of wearing full-length lightweight merino wool tights under my fleece pants. The results?

My whole leg iced up on the outside of the pants this time, but there was zero discolouration and minimal chilling of my lower legs. The moisture transport chain worked perfectly, keeping me dry and comfortable!

While most of us know how much more comfortable it is to run in wicking apparel in the summer heat, we may not always think about the need to move sweat away from our skin when temperatures drop. Please, take this as my warning that you disregard this factor at your peril! If you're still running in cotton or other materials that aren't effective at moisture transport, I highly suggest you look into at least a few pieces of kit that will make your life so much more comfortable, if not actually a great deal safer.

Fortunately, my legs are fine - had returned to their proper colour with no lasting effects after a good swim workout following Tuesday night's run. May I always be so lucky in my adventures as your cautionary example!

Let the games begin!

So it's all still bollocks outside - ridiculous amounts of snow, blistering cold, and truly arse running conditions.

This is apparently what the City of Cambridge considers "acceptably plowed" for our street.

Things don't really look like they'll be improving any time soon, so I'll keep plugging away at the training for Around the Bay while keeping every available appendage crossed that I don't hurt myself or freeze to death. Seriously, I do like winter, but this is really starting to impinge on my sunny effin' disposition. I love cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, snowboarding, tobogganing and even winter camping, but it's tough to motivate yourself to get outside and enjoy nature when it's 800 million degrees below freezing, the wind threatens to rip your skin right off you at the slightest exposure, and you're immobilized under at least 15 metric buttloads of snow.

For the foreseeable future.

Staying the hell inside really has its appeal right now, even if that means grinding away on the trainer. At least some relief has finally hove into view - my very favourite thing to watch while I crank away on the hamster wheel.

I know it's not the traditional logo.
I don't really care. This one rawks.

Despite all the controversy and politicizing, whether Sochi is ready for it or not, IT'S WINTER OLYMPICS TIME! I absolutely adore the winter games, and will definitely be spending every moment I can tuned in to watch the incredible feats of athletes from around the globe.

Seriously, do yourself a favour and find some coverage of a winter sport you know nothing about. While some of the events have immediate mass-market appeal (slopestyle snowboarding anyone?), compelling moments happen in all venues. We're lucky in Canada (I can't speak for other nations) that the media coverage typically includes at least one person with real knowledge of the sport on display - they can provide insights into what you're watching such that even if you've never seen ice & snow before you can appreciate some of the excitement of a luge run or a huge upset on the speed skating track. Some of these events are spectacles that are rarely seen outside of the Olympics, so you may learn about something cool you'd never have encountered otherwise (like the truly badass biathlon, which is cross country skiing with freakin' guns!).

Really though, the biggest thing for me is that it's incredible to watch athletes of any sort at the very peak of their chosen sport, all striving for excellence in an arena that fosters sportsmanship and positive national pride. In a world filled with terrible conflicts, the Olympic spirit burns bright as the torch which bears its name - a beacon of hope for peace and celebration of athletic achievement.

Oh, and funny trousers.

Let's get wooly!

So last week's post may have been a bit thin on content and high on cheek - I have clearly managed not to freeze solid, despite having continued to run outdoors through one of the coldest winters I can recall.

One of the major reasons I haven't died of exposure is this happy fellow:

That's a merino sheep, and their wool is an outdoor enthusiast's best friend. Several companies make apparel and accessories from merino wool, and while it's incredibly expensive compared to synthetics, I've found the price to be completely worth it.

Especially when running in these kinds of conditions.
That's a merino wool neck gaiter keeping my face from freezing.

As I discussed last year in my Winter Running Tips post, you need to be able to manage moisture in order to survive with all your toes. Merino wool not only wicks sweat away better than any synthetic I've ever worn, it also (like all wool) stays warm when it's wet, and even feels dry against your skin when it's soaked since the actual fibres are incapable of absorbing water. This can make a huge difference in extreme conditions, be they hot or cold - dry (or at least dry-feeling) fabric against your skin is less prone to chafe or blister, and leaves you much less at the mercy of the air temperature around you. I happened to hear a fellow ask after the Frosty Trail 3-hour this year what kind of socks other people were using: myself and both others who were there at the time all heartily endorsed SmartWool socks for keeping feet warm and blister-free when running through the snow for hours on end. If ultrarunners will recommend them for long slogs in harsh conditions, you know you can rely on them for your everyday training needs! Make no mistake, though - I don't relegate merino wool use to the winter.

Midsummer Night's 30k in a merino singlet.

Merino wool has an amazing ability to assist your body in temperature regulation: you'll stay warm when you need to, but dump heat as the thermometer (or your effort level) rises. I even wear merino wool longjohns under my trousers to go to work, knowing that they'll keep me toasty in the chilly car but won't make me overheat even in the sweltering heat of my office. I love how dry and comfortable I stay in my merino wool items on the hottest days of summer, too - I wear the socks year-round, and have no less than 3 merino wool tank tops and an additional 3 short-sleeved shirts! The fabrics will vary in their hand by company, but this isn't your grandma's scratchy knitting - even my "no way will I ever wear wool because it makes me itchy" husband is a total convert to SmartWool's incredible socks and the silky, light-as-air Icebreaker garments.

So many applications.

Don't think that merino wool is just for running, either - any outdoor activity, particularly ones where your energy expenditure varies (leaving you potentially sweating and then freezing), can be a wonderful use of merino wool apparel. Tanker and I both lived in longjohns made by Icebreaker and longsleeve merino shirts from Mountain Equipment Co-op while backpacking on the Western Uplands Trail last fall, bringing along merino t-shirts as well for when the weather was warmer. When packing for fast-and-light travel, then diminutive size & weight of merino wool makes a great deal of sense. It's really resilient stuff, too - the pieces I own have been put through the wringer, and while I've managed (through my own stupidity, which we all know is abundant) to put some small holes in a couple of things those holes don't seem to grow. I don't know if it's an effect of the wool itself or the way in which the various companies fabricate the garments, but holes that look like they'd quickly spread and destroy the piece just seem to stay the same size for years on end.

No pants before coffee at Maggie Lake.

There's one more great aspect of merino wool that makes it ideal for endurance sport, travel and outdoor pursuits - being naturally antibacterial, the garments don't stink even after days of heavy, sweaty wear. Seriously. Those longjohns above? I wore them for 5 days straight, took them off for a day, then threw 'em right back on again. No stench, same with the socks that didn't leave my feet for 6 solid days. When you're talking about feet that spent most of their time hiking rugged terrain encased in Gore-Tex boots, that's saying quite a bit. This makes the fabric ideal for commuter apparel, too - I have a great merino shirt made by Bontrager that I use for warm weather cycling on my lunch breaks and after work.

Or running around at -15c in a snowfield. Whatever.

The last major advantage of merino wool is that it dries from soaking wet faster than just about any other material I've ever encountered. Between the complete absence of any smell after wearing and the quick dry time, this means you can push a very small number of pieces very hard - I have been wearing my heaviest-weight merino base layer shirt almost every day during this polar vortex to run in the evening, hanging it on the side of my laundry hamper overnight, and finding it ready to go again less than 24hrs later. Decided that you've worn it enough to warrant a good bath? Just chuck it in the washer (we wash everything in cold and use the delicate cycle for athletic apparel), then either hang or lay flat to dry. It'll be ready for more abuse within 24hrs at most - sometimes as little as 4 hours, depending on temperature, humidity and how much water the spin cycle gets out. I've heard you can send it through the dryer as well on low heat, but that's not a thing I've ever tested. I've never had cause to, either; I've actually taken garments off in the evening, laundered them in a hotel sink and hung them up, then put them right back on in the morning. I have even washed out a pair of briefs in a campground comfort station and used a hot-air hand dryer to have them ready to wear within a few minutes. It's probably best you don't ask for further details there.

An Ibex sweater for a chilly, windy training run.

The long & short of it is, you need some of this stuff. I balked at the price when I bought my first piece (an Icebreaker base layer shirt that I still wear 5 years later - that's the one I mentioned above that's been saving me from the polar vortex!), but I've since invested in enough to clothe me from head to toe. Gloves, neck gaiter, hats, a pair of pants, plus different weights of base layers - it's all delicious to wear and can save your life if things really get rough out on the trail. I heartily endorse just about anything made by Icebreaker (they even have a neat "BAAcode" tag on their garments that will let you track the origin of your piece to the very farm where the sheep was raised), SmartWool socks and accessories, and I've had good experiences with Ibex as well. These companies all pride themselves on making quality products using wool from mulesing-free farms.

Wool all over!

If you needed another reason, you can also feel great about the fact you're using a naturally sustainable resource - the sheep need shearing anyway, and will grow another huge, fleecy coat the next year! Much better than contributing to depletion of non-renewables through consumption of petroleum-based synthetics, most of which won't last as long as the hard-wearing wool. So what are you waiting for? Go treat yourself to the very best!

Brrrrr

Frozen solid - send halp!

Frosty Trail 3-hour - Saturday, January 18th, 2014

Butter churning and ankle turning.

I'll try to keep this one short (ha!), as there isn't a whole lot to say. I did try a different race day breakfast, mainly because I was out of meal replacement shakes & wanted to try something completely dairy free. Had a cinnamon raisin bagel with dairy-free cream cheese on half and raw almond butter with honey on the other half, plus a tiny bowl (maybe 1/4 cup) of cereal with almond milk. Topped it off with the usual Tim Hortons Café Mocha on the way up to Camp Heidelberg, hoping it would help me wake up a bit after another night (week/month) of too-little sleep.

We were the first ones to arrive bar the race director, so picking up race kit was a breeze. Weather was to stay at around -7c/19f all day with some wind and blowing/drifting snow. I hit the washroom, lubed up, dressed, threw a windproof wrap skirt over my tights, and then wrestled with my idiot brain as I tried to remember to put my gaiters on before my shoes. I told myself to do this, then forgot and had to remove the first shoe (fortunately I hadn't tied it). I then promptly did exactly the same thing with the other shoe, 'cause I'm awesome like that.

Wonder dork powers ACTIVATE!

Room full of badass ultrarunners...and me.

I wasn't happy with the static cling I was getting from the skirt, so I ditched it and re-pinned my number to my tights before getting down on the one bit of carpet in the room and making a total fool of myself by repeatedly humping the air and doing some other strange-looking things that have become part of my warmup routine as I continue to take special care of my damaged hamstring. A minute or two after the appointed start time of 9am, we were all lined up in the cold outside the Rehkopf building as the horn sounded to start the day.

25 runners total.
It's nice to know there are other people as weird as you.

RUN AWAY!

Starting toward the back. I know my place.

Around the parking lot and into the woods to start the first loop of the 2.1km course, it became immediately apparent that this was going to be what we technically refer to in the business as a "shit show". There was a crust of ice under the top layer of snow, then more snow under the crust - which sometimes did and sometimes didn't support the weight of the runners - and then choppy, footprinted, ankle-turning ice on the bottom. The initial conga line through the Western woods section moved slowly, but not slowly enough for me to keep up; within two minutes of the start I had dropped to a walk and was gasping for breath.

"Trail" into the Western woods loop.

I managed to persuade myself to run down the snow-covered grassy hill from the Western woods to the gravel driveway, but only just barely made it upright - the combination of the choppy ice and soft, sand-like snow made us all lurch and stagger like a pack of drunks. Hitting the driveway was like bliss, as it has been plowed...until you got down toward the bottom, where slick ice awaited under the top skiff of snow. Many people were running with screw shoes or traction devices (YakTrax or Microspikes), but I was relying on the Vibram soles of my NB WT1010s to keep me on my feet as I'd done most of my dicey winter running in them (when I hadn't stuck with my beloved Brooks Launch) and there were some clench moments.

Deep, soft and uneven - a trio of terrors.

The Eastern woods proved no better than the initial loop. It was tough sledding no matter how you approached it - took me something like 10k effort to run at all through the sections where it was possible, and almost half marathon effort just to walk through the really horrible spots. I wondered if I'd be able to keep it up as I watched the 1-hour runners go flying past me, and figured my goal of trying to get in at least 20k had gone right out the window.

What will the next step bring? Who knows?

I was nearly through my 3rd lap as the horn sounded again to signal the end of the 1-hour race - I'd only done 6k in that time, but then again the 1-hour winner only managed a bit more than 10km, and the 1st place woman only did 4.2km. It was a tough day, made no easier by my broken toe complaining about the uneven terrain. Fortunately its whining was severely blunted by the fact I was essentially icing it the entire time I was out there, since my feet were usually buried in snow.

This was literally as good as it got.

I decided I'd need some calories if I was going to keep working at this kind of effort level, so grabbed a swig of EFS Liquid Shot from my flask and washed it down with a sip or two of water. I wasn't drinking enough, but that was mainly because opportunity was hard to come by: even while walking in either woods section, I was stumbling around so badly I'd nearly fall if I tried to drink at the same time. The only place that was really clear to drink while moving was on the driveway, and half the time I spent on it was going uphill - once I reached the (flat, salted) parking lot, I was still trying to catch my breath in order to plunge back into the suck in the Western woods section. I grabbed little sips here and there, and started pausing at the foot of the big f-off hill in the Eastern woods to get a good sip before walking up. Oddly enough, that treacherous hill proved one of the most navigable parts of the course: the choppy ice under the snow formed almost natural steps, providing good traction. Still tough on the legs, though, as it's like doing a stair climb in the middle of the course.

Still beats running through this.

As the day progressed and myriad feet trampled the snow and ice, some sections that had been nigh impassable first thing in the morning became runnable. Unfortunately, some parts that had been runnable were now deathtraps at anything over a walk! At least, so it appeared to my clumsy arse, though I certainly wasn't the only one having issues staying upright. I chatted with other runners along the way who likened it to your legs being drunk while your upper body was sober, often finding your shoulders had swayed a half meter to one side or other of the single-track trail while your feet scrambled for purchase on the ever-changing surface. The most poignant comparison of the day was made by Jack, a seriously studly runner who won the 3-hour by a large margin and super nice fellow - he said he felt like he'd been churning butter with his legs for the entire time he'd been on course. 

If you go out in the woods today..

My totally-not-pulling-it-out-of-my-butt math told me I'd probably be able to make about 8.5 laps of the course in the 3 hours, so I'm guessing it must've been past the two hour mark as I finished lap number 6. A bit of a tumble into a (fortunately quite soft) snowbank on the side of the trail and a mildly wrenched left ankle told me I was getting sloppy and could probably use some calories, so I took one more swig off the EFS Liquid Shot flask to see me through. I rather needed to use the washroom, but the only options there were: 

a) go into the Rehkopf building and up a set of stairs to the indoor ladies' room

b) try the possibly locked, possibly frozen solid portajohn down at the end of the driveway.

Neither of the above sounded enticing, so since it wasn't urgent I just kept plugging away. Clearly the dairy free pre-race breakfast strategy was paying off, because every other time I'd had any inkling of needing a bathroom at Camp Heidelberg in the past it certainly hadn't been optional. Note to self: continue with bagel experimentation. Bagelsperimentation. Bagelness. Yeah, that.

Loopy.

With my gaiters packed full of snow, a baggie of macaroni in my pocket and a couple of very sore feet, I finished loop number 8 (16.8km/10.4 miles) with around 15mins left to go. Nothing to hold back for now, I threw whatever I had left into it , but still had to walk a great deal - almost all of the Western woods loop was trudging only, and the only place I could really get a sustained run on was the section that takes you from about halfway out to Kressler Road on the driveway into Camp Heidelberg back to near the bottom of the driveway, via a really steep downhill that makes me nervous even in good conditions. I actually made it all the way through that part and was running back up the driveway to the start/finish line when the horn sounded once more to end the 3-hour race. I dropped my bag of macaroni right behind the Rehkopf building and walked the last hundred-or-so metres to the end, though I was only credited with 1.8km for my last loop for a total of 18.6k/11.5 miles.

Still alive & kicking.

I grabbed the camera from Tanker and walked a bit of the Western woods portion to get some of the photos above, then headed inside to get changed out of my soaking wet gear. The temperature had dropped a bit in the last hour or so, such that my fingertips started to get cold while running, but overall I felt I'd dressed pretty well for the day. My legs also felt really good throughout, though my ankles were a bit worse for wear; my limiter had been my lungs as I tried to power through the mush. Even the supporting muscles (adductors & abductors) and my healing hamstring felt ok at the end, which is a testament to the strength and rehab work I've done. Air humping works, people!

Yeah, it was exactly like that.

I later discovered, however, that I'd actually done some damage to my feet - and even my shoes! I'm guessing that I must have stepped on the edge of an icy footprint and had the medial side of my foot scrape against the other edge, tearing the outer mesh uppers of my shoes and leaving me with a very sore spot where my right big toe meets the ball of my foot. As I sit here now, 3 days later, it's still pretty unhappy.

Just about exactly where the tear on the right shoe is.

So while I was still in the ladies' room wrestling my wet feet into my compression socks, I heard my name called. I finally got myself sorted out in dry clothing and emerged to discover I'd got 1st female in the 3-hour! Of course, it wasn't until long after I'd collected my prize (a $25 gift certificate to Runner's Choice, my favourite local running store) that I found out there were only 2 women in the 3-hour race.

The other of whom decided to drop out after 3 laps because she had fallen.

And she was pregnant.

Still, a win is a win, right?

I takes what I can gets.

Right?

Regardless, it was a fun day out in the woods - I shared a course with great, friendly people and had amazing support from the volunteers. Big shout-out to my sweetheart Tanker for taking care of my every need and helping out at the aid station, too! You're awesome, baby!