Ed. Note: This isn’t exclusively a running blog, but my Manhattan Half-Marathon training is consuming much of my mental energy at the moment. Post-January 26th I vow to get back to all things New York-ey.
Perhaps the most maddening aspect of half-marathon training thus far has been my increasing dependence on—er, obsession with—those unpredictable elements. After moving yesterday’s 10-miler to today due to extreme cold (12 °F felt like 1°, and I’m rather fond of my lungs), I began checking the hourly forecast compulsively. I tossed and turned all night, deliberating on the best 1 hour and 40 minute window to avoid the predicted sleet and rain. But faced with a nasty morning and little guarantee for improvement, I made my decision: A treadmill run.
No sooner did I begin the half-block trek to the gym than my decision was validated. An inch-thick layer of slush-covered ice coated much of my block—and, I assume, Manhattan.
It was a good call. The run was hard but strong. I, of course, incorporated the big hills. But is the treadmill a lesser form of training? Am I a weaker runner for refusing to set out in what I deem unsafe conditions? Like all aspects of running, it comes down to philosophy.
I run to test my physical endurance, not my endurance of the elements.
I do not run on ice or snow to challenge my sense of balance.
I do not run in the arctic cold to test my lungs and flirt with cold-induced asthma.
I do not run in heavy rain to see how my sensitive Irish skin responds to frigid drops pelting my face, or how my tired, calloused feet handle that soggy squishing with every step.
Why, then, did I sign up for a winter half-marathon? The aforementioned aside, I love winter running. I find clear conditions from 25 °F - 45 °F to be totally invigorating. Central Park is stark and beautiful when the low January sun filters through the gnarled, bare tree branches. And believe it or not, most of my winter races have fallen under these glorious conditions.
I also have the time. With spring, summer, and even fall come weddings, vacations, long weekends, and countless other reasons why one can’t devote much of the weekend to a long run, plus prep and recovery. Bonus: I was able to use the excess holiday calorie consumption (#nomnomnom) to supplement my training, and I actually lost weight in December. It’s really satisfying to feel at optimum fitness when everyone else is bemoaning any non-party-related physical activity for the first time in a month.
So given the psychological agony I inflicted on myself while planning this run, I felt the need to refocus. Re-prioritize. When I clicked “submit” to my application for the Manhattan Half, I did so with a vow that I would do this on my terms, on my time, for as long as it felt right.
Take it away, Frank.
I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway
And more, much more than this, I did it my way.
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