Worst Run Turned Best

Misery loves company.

be one of my worst runs ever.

The weather was awful, completely dark outside and the air temperature hovering around the freezing mark, which wasn’t the problem in and of itself. But it was amazingly wet, too. The precipitation dumping from the sky was a chilly combination of rain, freezing rain, and sleet. Most surfaces were coated ina glaze of ice and there was wind, strong sustained wind that carried the water horizontally, with gusts that drove it right through my “‘water-repellent” running clothes. Five minutes out the door, and I felt as though I had jumped into a glacial river.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy winter running. Subzero temperatures, snow, wind—I love running through a winter wonderland. But this particular morning was proving to be a major exception.

Finding a decent place for outdoor speed work was impossible. Since the local track is closed when I have time to train, I make use of a couple of alternative options depending on traffic, road conditions, and snow depth. None of the options are ideal, but I make it work. With the volume of precipitation falling and steady weekday traffic that morning, I simply didn’t want to risk running on the streets. Since the sidewalks were a ribbon of skating rink, they weren’t an option either. A treadmill? Well, I just don’t have the coordination to run in my fast gear on a tiny spinning belt. My best option was the arboretum. Most of the snow had recently melted, but the main advantage was that my weight would break through the surface ice, providing at least a marginal amount of traction. Plus, the thought of going down on frozen sod, as opposed to concrete, seemed like a slight advantage. However, there were loads of ice-covered water puddles, and in no time I could no longer feel my soaking wet feet.

I was nowhere near hitting my interval paces. My plan called for 12 x 400-meter intervals at a 1:21 pace. Obviously I’m no speed demon, but I put up a good fight in my age group. Using my GPS watch, I measured something close to 400 meters, warmed up as best I could under the conditions, then dived into the intervals: 1:30, 1:31, 1:32… 1:35. Argh! Despite every effort, I could not break even 1:30; moreover, I was getting slower on nearly every interval. I’ll

C)« recent morning, my 6:00 A.M. speed-work session was shaping up to

admit I had been struggling to hit my speed work intervals lately but hadn’t been too concerned since I was nailing or exceeding paces on my tempo and long runs. Thad been chalking up my slower intervals to the cumulative demand of week after week of marathon training on top of an active family and exciting career. But this morning, I was getting my butt kicked, and I knew it.

I was completely alone. Now, I rarely have a running partner, particularly during speed work, but I always see somebody else running. | get a lift when I see others out running, especially around the crack of dawn and especially in tough weather. I can’t explain exactly why, but it may have something to do with knowing that at least a few others can push past the coziness of a warm bed, slip on some running shoes, and venture outdoors when few others would do so. When you’re suffering, it helps to know you’re not the only one. But this morning? Not a soul. / was the only one suffering.

Having finally completed all 12 intervals, not a single one near my target pace, I made my way back home. I was feeling low. Finding secure footing on the ice was difficult, yet cars were blowing down the street past me with wild abandon. Though I had lost the feeling in my hands and feet some time ago, uncontrollable shivering was evidence that my core temperature was beginning to drop, too. The blasted wind kept hammering a combination of liquid and frozen water at me from every direction. Even with the bill of my running cap tucked low, I had to