Distance: 8 miles
Pace: 9:17
Altitude: 7,000 ft.
Elevation
gain: 488.8
Wardrobe
changes: 1
Temperature: 35 degrees (Fahrenheit)
For my 40th
birthday, I want to run a marathon in Antarctica. Because they only let 100 runners go per
year, the trips book up three years in advance, leaving me approximately 2.5
years to save up a few thousand dollars and convince myself I can run a
marathon . . . in Antarctica. Temps
during the run range from 15 to 45 degrees (Fahrenheit) because the marathon is
in the Antarctic summer. I’m guessing 5+
years from now, global warming will have adjusted that upward a bit. But I’ve been mentally prepping for some
serious cold weather running gear. No
way I can wear Vibrams (which is fine, since I can’t do 26.2 in them anyway)
and I will need some real insulation.
Definitely won’t need my now-preferred booty shorts. So when I saw the temperature was 35 degrees
at the start of my 8 mile tempo run, I thought it would be a good opportunity
to test my cold tolerance. I wore thick
spandex running pants, a lightweight long sleeve running shirt, and a very
lightweight waterproof wind-breaker. Then I put on a pair of gloves that are
specially designed to use with touch-screen phones and a winter hat.
(My new favorite gloves that allow me to navigate my phone without removing them. The gray fabric conducts energy in some way that allows your fingers to still work your iPhone.)
As I walked
through my neighborhood to my starting point, the wind was biting. As it was Thanksgiving, I decided I was
thankful for my jacket. I set my goal
pace for 9:00 (aggressive in light of the altitude, but it’s a tempo run,
right?) and started my run down a long downhill slope. Within the first mile, each of my shoes came
untied and stopped to tie them – not good for my time! I finally realized the hem of my running
pants was rubbing against the laces and untying them, so on my third try I
finally double-knotted my shoes. Still
chugging downhill, I realize I am getting warm.
Very warm. Very very warm. My super lightweight jacket feels heavy, hot,
and uncomfortable. And I have to
pee. Oh, great. At 1.5 miles, I spy a McDonalds and use the
restroom, shedding my jacket and tying it around my waist. I decide to carry my hat. At 2 miles, I turn around and head back up
the hill. This. Sucks.
How is it possible to overheat in 35 degree weather? When I reach my start point 4 miles into the
run, I decide to make a pit stop. I went
back to my house and changed into three quarter length running tights and my
short sleeved Tough Mudder shirt, feeling anything but tough. I shed my gloves and hat, popped a Gu, and
peed again and set out for my last 4 miles.
(Yes, I paused my GPS during both pit stops. Much like Mark McGwire, I deserve an asterisk
for this run. But there was a time in my
life when I was less dedicated to running and I would have just called it a day
after those first 4 hard miles. I’m
proud of myself for getting back out there.)
(I'm with ya, buddy. I share your asterisk shame.)
My next two
miles were up the hill I’ve affectionately dubbed “the Beast.” Any relief I got from my change of clothes
and short break was gone. To borrow a
Slo Jo word, I trudged up the Beast.
Every 5 minutes, MapMyRun perkily informed me “you’re behind your target
pace, speed up!” I may or may not have
called the app a “stupid b***” out loud, angry that she didn’t realize I was
going up a hill. I kept thinking “two
miles up, then it’s just two miles downhill.
Down. Hill.”
I finally reached the top, panting, dizzy, nauseated (ah, yes, this is
my old friend, exertion nausea), and angry at the sport of running. But hey, now I was practically done because I
just had to go two more miles downhill!
I quickly realized that running two miles downhill, while much easier
than running two miles uphill, is still running two miles. I’d pushed way too hard in my beginning miles
(shocking, eh?), so my downhill miles were still fairly miserable. And even in a lightweight tee and thin
tights, I was hot. The temp had climbed
into the 40s by then, but that was still far too low to justify my
overheating. Evidently you are supposedto dress for 15-20 degrees warmer when you choose your running gear to account
for exertion-related heat.
(Kate Upton's outfit suggests she is dressed for a very strenuous workout.)
I finished
my run and limped back home. By then I was
totally nauseated and couldn’t bear to eat or drink anything. That made it worse. After about 30 minutes, I took a salt pill
and forced some tortilla chips down. This
stabilized me enough to turn to Thanksgiving dinner. Specifically, I had to hoist a 15 lb. limp,
dead, flaccid, mass of dead turkey flesh out of brine and prep it for the
oven. This is vomit-inducing for me
under normal circumstances and considerably less pleasant after my run. Fortunately, the contents of my stomach stayed
put while I put the turkey in the oven.
My stomach improved considerably after that and I was able to actually
enjoy Thanksgiving dinner several hours later.
Turkey is much more appealing when it is cooked. And, because MapMyRun told me I burned 1,078
calories pushing through those 8 miles, I enjoyed my Thanksgiving champagne (Piper
Sonoma) without any guilt. All in all, I
was happy I pushed through that run. And
I learned that I might want to pack my booty shorts for Antarctica after
all.
(This turkey did not start out so lovely and delicious.)
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