Untamed Runner

My local run club started up again this week. There were several rules around participation including a twenty-person total cap, we would be broken into smaller groups for the run, and we would be required to wear a face covering when in close proximity to others. I was on the fence on whether to go but ultimately I put my name on list and showed up.

Doing things that were once considered standard or casual can be a bit bewildering these days. In the past couple of weeks, I’ve gotten my hair cut and had the oil changed in my car. In both scenarios, the other people and I were wearing masks but besides the visible evidence of how these appointments were different than before, there’s a mental tax to stepping out into something “normal” when our circumstances clearly are not. My haircut was a little disappointing but I sure didn’t want to sit in the chair longer than I had to so I left with the thought that I’ve got a few good hats and my hair will grow out. Poor or sound judgement? Hard to say, but clearly a pandemic will affect your thinking.

Yet, once I’ve done something normal in the new not-so-normal way, it’s also interesting how much better I usually feel overall. It’s one reason I decided to go to run club. We were going to meet outside, there wouldn’t be any snacks or beverages afterwards, and there certainly wouldn’t be the usual high-fives and fist-bumps, but it would be similar to the Wednesday evenings we all enjoyed up until mid-March.

We all arrived, stood several feet apart from each other in a very large circle, then headed out for the trail. Being on a trail was an adjustment and as my standard routes these days are mostly flat, there were a couple of hills on the route that were not as much fun as they might have been several months ago. It was the first time I’d run in the late afternoon or evening since March. I thought I’d consumed enough fluids ahead of time but it was in the low nineties and a couple of miles in, I cramped up a little. Fortunately this occurred around the time the course was flattening out so it didn’t impact me too much.

At first, running near others requires some getting used to, yet it seemed to be a similar feeling for all of us. A little ways in, at least for me, it started to feel like one of our old Wednesdays, albeit with masks and staying further apart. In spite of no snacks, beverages, or presentation from a product rep after the run was completed, we all sat around in the grass for a little while, enjoying the chance to meet in person again and do something that resembled normal.

Even though we’ve found plenty of ways to connect online, I’m not sure what being more confined to our homes and physically away from people will do to our individual and collective psyche. As we continue to figure out how to grapple with this crisis, perhaps we’ll gradually find small, social-distancing-responsible ways to at least echo what we once felt as normal and enjoy connecting in-person with our friends and colleagues. (From a purely running standpoint, it may also take some adjustments, whether it be for course types we’re rusty on, or times of day we’re running, or other factors.) It’s a pleasant change from the past several months and if we can continue with it, maybe we’ll be a little closer to what we enjoyed even if we have to wait a little longer for this situation to ease.

This past weekend I ran a time trial. When I was accepted onto the 2020 Runners Roost Race Team #roostraceteam, I had a set of goals and was looking forward to training for them. Obviously things changed in March with races being cancelled or going to virtual formats. Luckily, I’ve had the opportunity to do some time trials with a couple of friends. The first one was a little over a month ago, a 5000M on the track. This past weekend, we met to do two, one-mile time trials. The course was a downhill mile that is traditionally run on July 4^th. We decided to race it uphill first and then do the downhill, with roughly fifteen to twenty minutes of rest and jogging in-between. Equipped with watches and sidewalk chalk, we marked the course, took our marks, and set off.

Often having someone to race “with” can help push you and since the fastest among us was always out in front and on his own, before the downhill mile I suggested that we stagger our start so that we all would have someone to focus on catching during the race. We kept the start delay to ten seconds between each of us which allowed them to each catch at least me (they’re both faster), but they would likely pass me before the end so that I would then also have someone to try and catch. It added an extra level of interest to the race and basically worked the way we wanted.

Mile races, whether formal or as a time trial, are tough. About 100M into the uphill mile, my brain was moving in a thousand directions, mostly on variants of the question, “What have I done?” For the downhill mile, I never assumed it would be easy but I also didn’t appreciate how much of an effort it would be. Before we started, as we were running down the hill so we could set up for the uphill mile start, they pointed out spots along the course where, during the race, certain thoughts creep up including, “What have I done?” This proved to be very helpful for even though the experience was new for me, I had the same thoughts at the same spots and realized they weren’t unique.

My expectations were matched in my downhill mile time. According to one of my friend’s Strava, you could add twenty seconds to your time to get a somewhat accurate flat mile estimate. I posted a 5:17 and so this would translate to 5:37. When I was first considering training for the mile, I figured that somewhere in the high 5:30s was about as fast as I could be without focusing on speed. So, assuming the plus-twenty is accurate then I am about where I figured I could be without extensive speed training. In theory, more speed training would make me faster and I should lower my time. (It also reinforces that the 5:10 I posted in late March was probably due to the course that I ran being a little short. Oh, well.)

Running is one sport that may be able to come back as an event for amateur competitors sooner than others because it’s easier to social distance. Yet, it’s difficult to imagine large races coming back any sooner than next spring, or to have substantial demand for them if they do. In the meantime, time trials with a couple of friends are a good way to keep sharp.

For the majority of my runs, I don’t have a regimented routine prior to going out the door. I do have a pre-run routine for longer runs and hot-weather runs. Last weekend, I was heading out for a hot-weather run and I prepared just like I have for the other five or six that I’ve done this summer. In fact, the evening and morning leading up to it I hadn’t done anything different than usual.

This is why I was unpleasantly surprised when less than halfway in, I did not feel normal. My legs were starting to feel oxygen-deprived and my stomach was churning a little. This was a run where, once I hit my turnaround, I have two opportunities to take a shorter route home. As my regular readers have gathered, I’m a bit stubborn when it comes to running. When I came to the first turn-off where I could have gotten home quickly, I was not feeling any better and my Gatorade was soup-hot and running low. Yet, I figured I could power through and so I continued on with my normal route.

Right after this junction, I got into a section of the route that involves a decently long uphill and about halfway up this, I was regretting my decision because I was feeling worse. I told myself it was all mental and drained a bunch of my Gatorade while wondering whether I would get to the top.

I did crest the hill and this got me to a portion of the run that was downhill and flat. By the time this easy part was completed, I would be at the second junction where I would have another opportunity to either cut the run short or continue on. I reached it and though something deep in my brain told me the smart thing to do was to peel away into the shorter route, I forged ahead. I had another short climb coming up but it was the last one and surely by the time I hit the top, I would get a second wind and cruise home.

I was wrong. When I got to the top, my legs were still feeling weak and my stomach was at a bad spot. I was thinking I was either going to have a major GI-problem to deal with, or my legs would just get to a point where I had to stop for a while, or both. I was out of shortcuts home so there was only one thing to do. I motored, or maybe sputtered is a better descriptor, ahead.

As I headed down the sun-baked streets and wondered just what I had been thinking, I found myself settling into a pretty easy trot with the plan being to finish while still standing. Roughly a half mile from home, while there wasn’t even a trace of a second wind coming on or even a gentle breeze, I knew I would get to my driveway in decent shape. There would be no surge over the last quarter mile, or even fifty yards, but I would finish on my feet while running at a somewhat respectable pace.

The run did a couple of things for me. It reinforced that strange stuff just happens sometimes. I hadn’t consumed anything the day before or in the few hours leading up to the run that was abnormal, I had slept decently well the night before, and I had an appropriate level of coffee and breakfast in my system. Nothing on the surface could explain it. It’s another good reason to enjoy solid race performances or training runs and not take them for granted because it doesn’t always work that way. And, if something like this does happen, just keep trucking on the next run. And, strange things can happen in both directions, like an unexpected, good race performance.

This shouldn’t scare off any new runners. In fact, it should be encouraging. Things don’t always go exactly according to plan. It’s frustrating, but you can bounce back. When I got home on Saturday, I had a text from a friend of mine who had planned on a time trial that same morning. He told me he’d bailed halfway through because he just wasn’t feeling it and something was just off. Maybe the stars just weren’t aligned for runners this past weekend.

For the first time in several months, I have a running food review!

Running food review (note–gels, bars, chews, and other items affect everyone differently. Try them on a short run before using them for a key training run or race): Skratch Hydration Lemon Lime: The first time I got “lemon lime” it was a green Skratch package but it was green tea flavored. That will surprise your taste buds. This time, I actually got lemon lime, it tasted like lemon lime, and it was wonderful. Even better, I used it on day when it was 99 degrees. My stomach was a little funny during the first mile but after drinking some of this, I actually felt better and I felt good through the whole run. (It was obviously not used on the run I described in this week’s post.) Good stuff in this package.

As regular readers of my blog know, I love running. As much as I love running, I don’t want it to spiral into compulsion or addiction as it seems that could quickly lead to a point where any joy that I felt on the run would be minimized, or evaporate completely. How do I measure for this?

There have been times when evidence suggested I’ve teetered on the edge. I’ve definitely cut it close on making work meetings on time after a lunch run, or arriving at a social event for the same reason. One stark example is the time I got up at 2:15 a.m. to get a run in before a very early morning flight. Probably for the better, I felt out of it from the moment I stepped out of bed until sometime later that morning. To illustrate my belief that I veered back into love of running, since that time I’ve used early-morning flight days as either my rest day for the week, or I plan to run when I arrive at my destination. The goal remains to hit the pavement because I love lacing up the shoes and going.

Is it important to maintain a line between love and addiction when it comes to running? I think it is. I hear and read stories about the extreme lengths to which people go to keep up with their running or to increase their training. I have to wonder whether there is wisdom in their decisions and whether they’re being pushed by an addition or compulsion. For example, maybe they try to come back too quickly from an injury, or maybe they inject stress into the rest of their lives to keep up a busy race schedule. Perhaps they engage in a high-intensity training regimen and maybe their bodies can handle it, but should they?

It’s a very fine line. For those of us who run, it’s important to make time for that, to push ourselves, and engage in a way that we find meaningful. Taking time off or backing off is an anathema to the competitive spirit. There will be times during any training schedule when we’re frustrated, or days where we don’t feel up to pushing ourselves, or we’d rather do an easy four miles and not the speed workout. That’s normal and to push through can lead to a small sense of victory. However, it’s also important to respect our bodies, not only if we’re coming off an injury but to prevent overuse injuries. Beyond the physical impacts we experience with running, allowing running to consume us, to always push for more and more and lose sight of what we love about it, can push us to burnout or to forget the joy we had at one point, and then what you wanted is gone. If you veer into addiction or compulsion, burnout seems far more likely because you’re going to keep pushing with what you’re doing, maybe increase it, without stepping back and observing the why of your actions.

Is an addiction to running or other exercise bad? Not necessarily. I assume most medical professionals would prefer to see someone with a running addiction as opposed to a substance addiction. Yet, if someone has an addictive personality, for the sake of physical and mental health, I also assume it’s beneficial to try and manage that.

How do you keep from allowing running to turn into an addiction or an unhealthy compulsion? Make sure you’re setting aside time for running but doing so in a way that respects the rest of your life. Make sure you take time off. Maybe that’s one day a week or maybe it’s a chunk of time, say one to three weeks every year where you allow your body to rest. Keep your goals in mind. If you hit them easily, they probably need to be changed but consider how much they’re changing, whether they’re feasible, and always remember where you said you’d be happy. When I first hit sub-18:00 in a 5K, I had been training so hard that I forgot about the fact that was a time I’d always wanted. Instead, I viewed it as a time I was entitled to and only thought about how I should be faster. A comment from a friend of mine helped steer me back to a balanced view on it, thank goodness.

How do I measure whether I’m still out there for the love of it? A couple of weeks ago we went camping. It was a two-night trip and my wife asked if I was going to run while we were there. “No,” was my answer and for the following reasons. One, I could run the day we left and the day we got back and thus miss just one day in-between. Two, we were going up there to enjoy some different activities around the area. I didn’t like changing the schedule and my decision isn’t a guarantee that I’m not addicted to running, but being able to set it aside seems good enough. It felt good to adjust the schedule a little, and to know that I was still out on the pavement for the love of running.

We’re into summer temperatures and here’s a link to a previous post where I discuss my preparations for running when it’s excessively warm outside.

I love running in the heat but the funny thing is, so far this summer I’ve only run a few times when it was blazing hot outside. As I’m avoiding heavily traversed trails and paths and aiming for less-populated streets and sidewalks, I’ve been running early in the morning or on the treadmill and thus my usual running temperature is around 55-70 degrees while outside, and 75-78 degrees inside (our treadmill is in the basement).

Over the years, I’ve accumulated a decent number of running shirts, both from races and purchases. Some are sleeveless and in the past, I didn’t use them very much. I prefer to be on the warm side and unless I was racing and needed the sleeveless shirt, I wanted to start out comfortable. Of course, even on a cooler summer morning, it doesn’t take long to heat up so now I’m using them often as it helps with the adaptation to the heat. Here’s another funny thing. I actually use them more when it’s really early and still cool and I use short sleeve shirts when it’s sunny and hot. Why? Sun protection.

The sleeveless shirts obviously expose a lot more skin and while I could use sunscreen, I tend to think it’s better to keep the skin covered. I don’t know the science or the tipping point between when it’s better to keep the sun off versus letting your skin breathe while using sunscreen. However, when you see athletes at Badwater with their arms covered, it makes an impression. In fact, several weeks ago when it was really hot, I wore a shirt with short sleeves and I put on compression sleeves. I definitely got warm but it kept the sun off. Fortunately, for the length runs I’m currently doing, it probably doesn’t really matter whether I use sunscreen or sleeves, but it’s a lot easier to use the sleeves and they may be better.

Overall, my basic strategies for running in hot weather have not changed. I did take Gatorade with me the day I wore compression sleeves. Similar to when I ran in Twenty-nine Palms last summer, the Gatorade got hot—not nearly as quickly and it didn’t reach soup temperature, but it still got hot. It served as a good reminder to use insulated bottles when possible.

My summer running so far this year has looked similar to the last few months of running but quite different from my usual summer routine. Normally I try to soak up as many hot weather runs as possible. These days, I’ll still be going early. Regardless of when you’re going, even early temperatures can still be warm, and it’s still good to prepare accordingly. Even if you like hot weather as much as me, your body still needs you to be ready for it.

Last Saturday, feeling frustrated at not running well on the treadmill, I decided to put mind over matter and turn in an excellent time on a six-mile run on it. Matter won. In the immediate post-run reflection, I came to a very simple conclusion: I just don’t run as well indoors, and this has always been true. I have many memories of indoor track. Most of them are that I didn’t enjoy it as much as running outdoors.

Many athletes struggle in venues for various reasons. The following two have more accolades and championships to their credit than me, but I use them because they should be familiar to even the most casual sports fan and it illustrates that sometimes, things just don’t work the way you want in athletics.

For all of Roger Federer’s dominance on the tennis court, including twenty grand slam titles, he has repeatedly struggled at the French Open. He does have a championship there, but given his higher rate of success in all other tournaments, that one has proved more elusive.

In the early 2000s, USC football steamrolled past almost all of their opponents, including the best teams they faced. And yet, they lost twice in a row to Oregon State when they played them in Corvallis. This was a team that had no business hanging with the Trojans, yet they ran right past them. Something in the Corvallis water or atmosphere did not mesh well with USC.

There are running examples of this phenomenon, not necessarily with location but with types of events. Kipchoge has dominated the marathon in various locations in an unprecedented way. His track record is not shabby by any means, but if you look at it next to his marathon record, it’s not even close. Bekele dominated the 5000M and 10000M for years. While he has had some top-notch performances in the marathon, he has also been inconsistent and will not be considered a titan of that distance.

I’ve stated that I’m happy with a pair of running shoes on my feet and solid ground underneath them. Yet, I don’t run as well indoors. It’s strange. It’s the same motion, I have the same capability in my legs, but something just doesn’t work the same way.

No competitive person wants to admit that they just don’t do as well in certain conditions or at certain venues. And, there is value in continuing to chip away at a challenge to make ourselves better. Yet, it appears that even for the best athletes or programs, there are times when it may be valuable to evaluate whether they should continue to go after something they’re not meant to do, or try something different. Roger Federer and USC don’t have much choice over their schedules so their adaptive technique needs to be different.

As runners, we have the luxury of pivoting to new things. What if Kipchoge had continued to try and find more success at the 5000M and 10000M? He might very well be another good track runner with a couple of Olympic medals and respectable times, hardly known by anyone outside of the die-hard running community. What about Bekele? His progression was different, but had he continued to push at the 5000M and 10000M distance, would he have had a couple of more titles and medals to his name? Possibly. I’m sure there are plenty of lesser-known runners who wanted to run lights out on the track but eventually realized that they probably were destined to be a marathoner, or ultrarunner. Did they shrink away from a challenge, or did they become more aware of their strength and weaknesses and react accordingly? Thank goodness for the ability to pivot.

There are many things that I love about the treadmill, both from a practical and a training standpoint, and I’ll still be on it quite a bit. But as far as running inside, I won’t be seeking out any all-comers indoor track meets any time soon. I’m running with the idea (pun intended) that I have a better understanding of my strengths, and that turning in top-notch times indoors is not something that needs to be reconciled.

Last fall, I wrote that one goal for the 2020 running year was to train for the mile to see what kind of time I could still post. There are three reasons. While many runners go for longer distances as they get older, I thought it would be interesting to engage in a mental game of accepting that I might not post my fastest mile ever but seeing how fast can I run 5,280 feet right now. Also, it’s a different form of training in terms of speed and mileage and I felt that could be beneficial, mentally and physically. And, I’m an untamed runner. Bucking convention is something I enjoy.

Since that time, I’ve mentioned a few updates on how I’m progressing with the training. The odds of competing in an open mile in the next several months are slim but I still have the possibility in mind. This past Saturday, I did an all-out mile on our treadmill and discovered the following.

Running a time trial on a treadmill is difficult. In fact, I believe I run much faster outside. Recent examples reinforce this. A couple of weeks ago, I barely kept my per-mile pace at under 7:00 on a six-mile run on the treadmill while fully caffeinated and fueled. The next week I ran sub-7:00 miles on a six-mile run having just rolled out of bed and into my running shoes. No coffee, no fuel. Given that I’ve also posted well under 7:00 miles on six-mile runs outside recently while fully caffeinated and fully fueled, the evidence for being faster outside is pretty conclusive.

On March 31, I did an all-out mile in my neighborhood doing two laps on our half-mile circle. My time was 5:10. While I had a hard time believing that was accurate, given how my 5K pace should translate, I measured the course again and got 1 mile for two loops. But, let’s say that because of how I ran the tangents, my distance was off by .05 miles. This would put me closer to 5:25 to 5:30 and that is a time that, while still on the faster end of my expectations, was one I could buy.

This past Saturday, while I have less speedwork on my feet, I still only posted 5:51 on the treadmill. It’s not uncommon for me to open a 5K at a sub-6:00 pace and though it’s reckless and probably means I wasn’t focusing, I also will still finish the 5K in an average pace of 6:00-6:25 per mile. The point is that I may pay later for a sub-6:00 opening mile but I also don’t completely fall apart so I should be able to go faster than 5:51 when doing an all-out mile.
So what does this mean for my attempts at the mile? The next time I do a time trial, I will do so outside and make sure the measurement is spot-on. I’ve been doing more push-ups to get better upper-body strength and I can start the speedwork again. 5:51 was a little disappointing but given that it was on the treadmill, it’s acceptable, it at least was comfortably under 6:00, and if I’m routinely faster outside, I can expect better results there. When I first conceived of doing all-out mile training, hitting a 4:59 was a “stretch” goal. If the 5:10 was accurate, or even 5:25, while dropping that much time in a mile is a lot, given that I hadn’t really gotten into heavy speed training, maybe the 4:59 is possible. That being said, I also would have been pleased with something in the 5:20s and given that there are still unknowns, I’d be okay with that.

Happy birthday to the Untamed Runner! I launched this blog in late May of 2018 and I celebrated the first anniversary by going for a long run while using birthday cake-flavored Gu. Unfortunately, I used my last birthday cake Gu a couple of weeks ago so while I’ll still go for a long run to celebrate the second anniversary, I’ll have to use something different for fuel.

When I launched, I didn’t imagine the number of consequential things that would occur in the running world. A very few highlights are the smashing of the men’s and women’s marathon world records, the further development of and controversy over new shoe technology, and road 10K times that are approaching the track world record.

I’ve been able to accomplish a fair amount, including winning a 5K in Laramie that did not go according to plan, being accepted to the Runners Roost Race Team #roosraceteam, and running several times in the desert in conditions that ranged from cold and snowy to 105 degrees under harsh sunlight. And for good fun, at least from a writing standpoint, the greatest sprint race ever.

I’m not sure why the past two years have had more momentous running moments than in others, either for me or for others, but there it is and here we are. As I rounded the curve from year one to year two for the blog, events and plans as they related to running seemed somewhat settled. Now, it’s hard to know what to expect. I had a loose race calendar for the year, including a couple of 5Ks and 10Ks later this month and mile races this summer, but everything is either out the door or on hold as we wait to see how this pandemic affects us. Yet we can still run, either outside or on home treadmills.

Maybe being untamed will be good preparation for uncertainty. I’ve always possessed stubbornness towards running in that I’ve always insisted on it. But, my focus has shifted among distances, styles of training, and clusters of racing versus not racing. Often there would be an unexpected reason for a shift, though usually it was one that was pleasant and welcome, not a pandemic.

I have to carry a face covering when I’m out there. With no travel in the near future, new running destinations are unlikely to be added to me resume. I may not be able to go on the exact routes I would prefer, so my current paths will likely become more and more familiar as I use the same residential streets again and again. Yet, what I love about running is the run itself. On my About page, I cite the joy I feel when lacing up my shoes and that is still there, in spite of changes, and untamed is an experience and a mindset.

Because it relates to running, year three of the blog is an unknown, much like everything else around us. The goal of my blog is to convey information that may be useful as you continue with your running and training (or for entertaining reading if you’re not a runner) and this is primarily done through evaluation of major running events and anecdotes around my own experiences, past and present. I’m still running, and the blog will still have new anecdotes and information. Stay tuned…

There’s a point in some races where, especially if you’re on the edge of a goal time or you’re in a barn-burner for the podium, the world disappears into a fog. You lose track of everything except the finish line. You’re aware of the pain that you’re putting your body through and the fact that you can’t run any faster, and yet the push for the line partly transcends that. When you cross the line, it can take a few moments for everything to return to normal, regardless of the outcome. You’ve put your mind and body through a small ordeal and they can be flooded with adrenaline and endorphins, and a snap-switch back to clarity and perspective isn’t in the cards.

When you’re training, there’s another kind of trance. If you’re on a distance run and you’re close to a goal time, the last couple of miles can turn into a mind-numbing push. Besides the strain of the run, all I can feel is this strange time-delayed slap of my hair against my scalp and I can almost see the beads of sweat flying off from it and colliding and evaporating in a suspended-in-time mist, despite the fact it’s occurring well outside of my peripheral vision. It’s an ugly feeling, one where I’m not sure whether I’ll hit my time, but wanting to keep pushing. Similar to an end-of-race trance, once I’m done it can take a little bit of time to revert to normal.

I’ve found that running in our current social distancing brings on a different kind of trance. Normally when I’m rolling off the miles I’m focused on running the tangents, keeping track of my time, both total and splits. I’m doing the math on all of this and breaking it into various segments to project my time. Is the rest of the course flat or hilly? Am I feeling strong and thus able to reasonably repeat these splits? What is my stretch goal? What will I likely get time-wise?

These days, I find that my focus is entirely on what’s going on around me. I’m vaguely aware of my watch and the total distance but I’m also scanning ahead of and around me. Instead of hugging curves or switching sides of the road in a line-of-sight to run the fastest course possible, everything is about enjoying the freedom of being outside while also being aware of people around me and keeping proper distances. In a way, I’m really not focused on the distance or my time. I’m aware of when I need to make turns so that I stay on my planned course but keeping track of it in terms of speed is outside of my main considerations. I’m in a zone.

A running friend of mine has been exclusively on the treadmill since mid-March and we’ve talked about running outside. His primary question isn’t whether to run outside, but how much practicing social distancing affects the enjoyment of the run. It does, to an extent. And yet, in spite of being in a trance that doesn’t allow for the parts of training that I enthusiastically embrace, it works in its own strange way. It’s not a trance I had expected, and definitely not one that I was able to compare to other runners’ mindsets in similar situations since this is a new one for us. But, it’s definitely a running trance, and unique among my experiences. Unlike the first two I mentioned above, it’s not hard to make the switch when I’m done. Clarity and perspective are back quickly.

In early March, I wrote a post pointing out the freedom that running allows us, even within social distancing guidelines. Much has changed since then, even for running, and yet we can still run free.

All of the social distancing guidelines allow for exercise, including going for a run. Where we live, the trails remain heavily used and we’ve been encouraged to seek out less crowded areas. The second time I ran on the trail, because of the amount of time I spent focusing on maintaining social distance, I did an all-out half-mile around our block, going down the middle of the street, well away from pedestrians. It felt wonderful to just run. As I walked back inside, I considered ways to keep up with a run-focused run and went to plan B: treadmill.

Our treadmill has provided many benefits, such as a dry surface to run on and 65 degree temperature when it’s frigid, dark, and icy outside. It’s also a way to run a very measured pace in specific increments. I’ve noticed more precision in my turnover when I run outside after doing several treadmill workouts. In our current times, it’s a way to run while social distancing. All I have to think about is the run.

And yet, while I’m generally happy with a pair of running shoes on my feet and a firm surface underneath, running inside all the time is not what I would normally choose so I went to a plan C. I’m still on the treadmill some of the time but it seemed reasonable that nearby residential streets and sidewalks might have fewer people and so far, they have. With the new face-covering requirements, it’s not quite the same as an unhindered run in fresh air, yet it still is a taste of freedom. Wearing a face covering does allow less air flow. This is not fun, but I figure there’s some training benefit that is similar to running at a higher elevation. I’m not sure whether that’s an additional 500 feet or 5000 feet, but it’s something.

It’s a way to observe first-hand our community around us. Though there is less traffic than on a standard weekday morning, there are still a decent number of cars. Most people observe social distancing in a responsible way. When I passed a house where someone I had never seen before was putting out their garbage, I was probably fifty feet away yet they called out with a hearty hello. Five weeks ago, they may not have even glanced up and I suspect our inability to socialize in person compels us to more friendly gestures when we do see another human.

I look forward to the day when I can run outside again without social distancing, to actually enjoy the freedom of a run. In the meantime it remains a bit of freedom I can still embrace, even with a few minor adjustments.