Category: Running

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When a Morning Run Meets a Summer Thunderstorm

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

This morning began with heavy rain tapping against the windows.

Instead of rushing outside, I reached for my weather app. According to the forecast, the rain should ease in about an hour. That sounded like a perfectly reasonable excuse to go back to sleep. So, I reset my alarm and happily returned to bed.

When I woke again, the house was quiet. The rain had stopped, or so I thought. I got dressed, laced up my running shoes, and headed out. Nashville’s weather has been a little unusual this year.

Normally, we receive plenty of rain from early spring into early summer, but this year’s rainy season seemed to arrive later than expected. June finally brought more regular rain, and even July has been filled with thunderstorms.

Earlier that morning, my wife had already gone for her run. She looked outside, decided the weather seemed good enough, and headed out with optimism. She came home completely soaked. Apparently, the weather had other plans.

I usually don’t let a little rain stop me either. When I started my run, the rain was still falling, but only lightly. I accepted that I would probably end up wet and settled into my normal pace.

Being soaked has never bothered me very much. Around the halfway point, however, the rain suddenly became much heavier. I briefly debated whether to turn around or keep going.

Every runner has that conversation with themselves.

“It’s only rain.”

“Maybe it will pass.”

“You’re already wet anyway.”

Then nature cast the deciding vote. A loud crack of thunder echoed across the sky. That ended the discussion immediately. Rain is merely inconvenient. Lightning is persuasive. I turned around and headed home. I didn’t complete my planned five kilometers, but I did manage to get part of the run finished before the weather took over.

Discipline is..

Sometimes we imagine discipline means refusing to stop. I think discipline also includes knowing when conditions have changed enough that continuing no longer makes sense. There will always be another morning to run. There doesn’t need to be another opportunity to test whether lightning can run faster than I can. I have no interest in discovering the answer to that question.

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Running in Nashville Humidity: When Finishing Is the Real Victory

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Nashville’s famous humidity has returned. It arrived with all the subtlety of an uninvited guest who not only stays for dinner but also adjusts your thermostat. Let’s tell you that running in Nashville humidity is hard.

This year, the rainy season seemed to arrive later than usual, which means we are now enjoying the unique experience of combining heavy humidity with even higher summer temperatures. It is an impressive achievement by the weather, if not a particularly enjoyable one.

Running in these conditions is… memorable.

Every breath feels as though I am inhaling warm steam from an oven. The air is so thick that it almost seems to have texture. Instead of cutting through the atmosphere, it feels as though I am negotiating with it.

By the time I had run a short distance, my shirt was completely soaked.

At one point I honestly wondered whether I was sweating that much or whether the humidity had simply decided to wear my clothes for me.

Running through a Nashville summer can sometimes feel remarkably similar to jogging inside a sauna, except the scenery is better.

Not surprisingly, I finished more than a minute behind my target pace.

That was disappointing.

I have spent a long time gradually improving my running speed, and I always hope to inch a little closer to my next goal. Lately, however, the weather has been making that progress considerably more difficult.

On mornings like this, I remind myself of something that is easy to forget.

The most important part is showing up.

Speed matters.

Improvement matters.

But neither of those things happens without consistency.

When I think back a few years, I realize just how much progress I have already made. I have improved my pace by more than a minute per kilometer. That is not the kind of improvement that happens overnight. It is built one ordinary run at a time, including the frustrating ones.

Sometimes training is about setting a personal best.

Other times, it is simply refusing to let miserable weather decide whether you will run at all.

Today’s run belonged firmly in the second category.

There was one final piece of good news.

The 10-kilometer run did not take off much weight this time. I lost only a fraction of a pound compared to yesterday, which means my carefully negotiated relationship with the bathroom scale remains intact.

Even better…

Cake is still on the menu after our weekly grocery trip.

Sometimes the greatest reward for surviving a humid summer run is not a faster pace.

Sometimes it’s dessert.

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Finding Progress Beyond the Stopwatch in Running Endurance Improvements

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

I am finding progress beyond the stopwatch in running endurance improvements.

This morning greeted me with something that has become surprisingly rare lately.

No rain.

Better yet, the air was noticeably cooler than it had been for several days. It was chilly enough that I briefly wondered whether long sleeves might have been the wiser choice. After the recent stretch of hot, humid mornings, however, I was happy to accept a little cool weather without complaint.

As soon as I woke up, I headed out for my usual run.

Within a few minutes, my body warmed up, and so did the weather. Nashville apparently believes seasons can change during a single run. What began as “perhaps I need a jacket” quickly became “short sleeves would have been perfect.”

Unfortunately, ideal running weather did not magically produce an ideal running pace.

I missed my target.

Looking back, I probably should have seen it coming. Around this time of year, morning temperatures can climb ten degrees within a surprisingly short period. Since I usually finish my runs before 8:00 a.m., it is remarkable how quickly the weather transforms.

Apparently, summer in Nashville believes in making dramatic entrances.

Next time, I may pay closer attention to the hourly forecast instead of simply checking the temperature when I wake up. Waiting a little longer before heading out might actually make clothing choices and pacing a bit easier.

Fortunately, today’s run was only five kilometers. Had it been my usual Saturday 10K, the changing conditions would have become much more noticeable by the later kilometers. Also, I have more energy than before after running. I must have gained my running endurance.

After returning home, I moved on to my resistance training.

There was better news waiting there.

This morning, I increased my pull-up total to twenty-five.

I was particularly pleased because many of my strength exercises have received less attention lately. Summer has a habit of replacing gym sessions with lawn mowing, and anyone who has pushed a mower across a steep backyard knows that yard work has a remarkable way of volunteering as leg day.

Still, progress is progress.

Perhaps the biggest change I have noticed this year is the effect of my anemia treatment. For years, I simply assumed that feeling tired was normal. Since beginning treatment, I have noticeably more endurance and energy throughout my workouts.

I admit I have complained more than once about having to visit the hematologist. Medical appointments are rarely anyone’s favorite hobby.

But credit belongs where it is due.

The treatment is making a real difference.

No, I did not meet my target running pace today.

On the other hand, I completed twenty-five pull-ups, something I could not have imagined not very long ago.

That is one of the lessons fitness keeps teaching me.

If you judge every workout by only one number, you’ll miss many of your victories.

Some days, the stopwatch wins.

Other days, the pull-up bar quietly reminds you just how far you’ve already come.

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A Skunk, an Early Wake-Up Call, and a Humid 10K Run

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

By this evening, I was thoroughly exhausted because of an early wake-up call.

That is not especially unusual after my regular Saturday 10-kilometer run, but today came with a few unexpected complications. The weather turned noticeably hotter and far more humid, and my carefully planned morning began with a visitor who was not on my schedule.

A skunk.

Few things will get your attention before sunrise quite like your phone ringing because a skunk has taken up residence near your front door.

Early this morning, my wife called while she was returning from her run. A skunk had wandered in front of our entrance, and she quite reasonably decided that sharing the sidewalk with it was a terrible idea. Instead of risking a close encounter and an unforgettable fragrance, she asked me to open the garage door so she could enter the house from another direction.

I was more than happy to help.

I was just less enthusiastic about being awake.

Under our front porch is a small opening that has long served as a cozy home for various wildlife. Years ago, several groundhogs lived there. I had not seen them for quite some time and assumed the little underground apartment had become vacant.

Apparently, the local real estate market had other plans.

A skunk has evidently decided that the former groundhog residence is an excellent place to live. I suppose one creature’s abandoned property is another creature’s dream home.

Unfortunately, the phone call arrived about an hour before my alarm was set to ring.

I briefly considered returning to sleep. My brain even presented a compelling argument in favor of the pillow. Unfortunately, once I am fully awake, negotiations with sleep rarely end in my favor.

So I admitted defeat.

I climbed out of bed, put on my running clothes, and headed out for my Saturday 10K considerably earlier than planned.

The run itself went well enough, but the combination of lost sleep, rising temperatures, and Nashville’s legendary humidity gradually caught up with me. By evening, I could feel every kilometer and every missing hour of sleep.

Fortunately, the solution is refreshingly uncomplicated.

Tonight, I plan to go to bed a little earlier than usual and let sleep do what no amount of determination can replace.

Running teaches discipline.

Skunks, apparently, teach flexibility.

Sometimes the day’s training begins long before the first step of the run.

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Recovery Is Training Too: Listening to My Body After a Long Run

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Today has been pleasantly relaxing, not because I have been idle, but because everything has gone according to plan. A recovery after a long run is important.

Most of my chores are finished, and I even made up the weighted squat holds that I skipped yesterday.

Normally, I prefer not to miss a scheduled workout. However, after yesterday’s 10-kilometer run, I was simply exhausted. Between summer yard work, regular training, and the occasional surprise from the weather—or even one poor night’s sleep—my body had clearly voted against any additional exercise.

When your body casts a unanimous vote, it is usually wise not to overrule it.

So, after a brief consultation with my most important training partner—my own body—I decided to skip the workout.

Today was a different story.

By this morning, I felt refreshed enough to make up the missed exercises. Sundays are usually reserved for lighter activities anyway. That lighter schedule gives my body time to recover from a week of work, running, and whatever landscaping projects decide to appear in the yard. After a Saturday 10K, I generally welcome the opportunity to slow down.

Ironically, because I had skipped yesterday’s strength session, I had enough energy to comfortably complete it today.

One lesson I continue to learn is that improvement and recovery are not always the same thing.

Treating my anemia has certainly helped my running. I have more energy, and my pace has steadily improved. Unfortunately, treatment does not magically speed up recovery.

Part of the challenge comes from my kidney condition. Since I need to limit my protein intake, I cannot simply increase my nutrition the way many athletes do after strenuous exercise. Building strength and recovering well are not just about muscles—they also depend on keeping the body’s vital organs healthy. Fitness is a balancing act, and sometimes restraint is just as important as effort.

Tomorrow’s weather forecast has already introduced the next challenge.

Rain appears to be moving in, so the earlier I start my morning run, the better my chances of staying dry. Unlike today, when I happily remained in bed for an extra hour, tomorrow morning will require considerably more discipline.

Apparently, even the weather enjoys testing my commitment.

Still, that’s part of the routine.

Some days, the challenge is running farther. Other days, it’s knowing when to rest. And occasionally, the greatest athletic achievement is convincing yourself to leave a warm bed before sunrise.

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Lessons from a Difficult 10K Run

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Today I got lessons from a difficult 10K Run. I usually run first thing in the morning because Nashville’s weather quickly becomes unfriendly to runners.

Even by 7:30 a.m., the air can feel remarkably heavy. It is not always because of rain. More often, the culprit is humidity. Once the temperature climbs above 70°F and humidity approaches—or exceeds—90%, the atmosphere transforms into something that feels almost tangible. It is less like running through air and more like trying to jog through warm pudding.

Saturday is my regular 10-kilometer running day.

Unless there is a snowstorm, thunderstorm, or a family event—which, for some reason, always seems to choose Saturday—I stick to that schedule. Consistency has become one of the most valuable parts of my training.

Since beginning treatment for anemia, my body has felt noticeably lighter during my runs. The improvement has been encouraging. Even so, there are still mornings when exhaustion appears without an invitation.

Today was one of those mornings.

From the very beginning, my legs felt unusually heavy. Every kilometer demanded more effort than it should have, and the pace that normally feels comfortable seemed frustratingly out of reach. By the time I finished, I was more than a minute behind my target pace and completely exhausted.

The strange part was that I hadn’t expected it.

Summer naturally brings more physical work around the house, especially lawn mowing, which is more exercise than many people give it credit for. Still, I had mowed on Thursday, so I assumed I had fully recovered by Saturday morning.

Apparently, my body had other opinions.

As I looked over my to-do list later in the day, I found myself trying to solve the mystery. Everything had seemed to be going well this week. I had slept well, eaten well, and generally felt healthy. Yet my run told a completely different story.

Perhaps that is one of the most humbling lessons running teaches.

Our bodies are wonderfully complex. They do not always explain themselves. Sometimes they perform beyond expectations, and other times they quietly remind us that recovery is not something we can schedule with the precision of a calendar appointment.

Instead of dwelling on the disappointing run, I moved on to the rest of my day’s tasks. One by one, I finished everything I had planned before our grocery shopping trip.

There is a special satisfaction in checking the final item off a to-do list. It means that once we return home, I can spend the rest of the evening doing something every runner eventually learns to appreciate.

Absolutely nothing.

After all, rest is not the reward for hard work.

Sometimes, it is part of the training itself.

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A Small Victory on the Running Trail: Beating My Target Pace by Seven Seconds

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

This morning, I finally achieved something I had been chasing for several runs. I beat my target pace.

To someone who does not run, seven seconds might sound insignificant. To a runner who has been stubbornly chasing a goal, however, seven seconds can feel like winning an Olympic medal… or at least earning the right to enjoy breakfast with a little extra satisfaction.

The weather certainly decided to cooperate today.

Relative humidity was around 20%, a dramatic improvement from the previous week. Here in Nashville, humidity regularly climbs above 90%, making the air feel as though someone forgot to wring it out. This morning, however, the air was crisp and refreshing. It was actually cool enough that I felt a slight chill when I started running, a welcome change from feeling as though I were jogging through warm soup.

One tool that has become surprisingly valuable is the ASICS Runner app. I have it announce my pace at regular intervals so I can make adjustments while I run, rather than discovering my mistakes after I’ve already finished.

I even changed the settings to kilometers instead of miles. Since announcements come more frequently, I receive feedback sooner, giving me more opportunities to adjust my pace before bad habits settle in. Sometimes success isn’t about running harder; it’s simply about getting better information sooner.

As I approached the final quarter kilometer, I checked my pace. I may beat my target pace.

I was ahead by exactly one second.

One second is an amusing amount of confidence. It is just enough to make you optimistic, and just a little too much to make you nervous.

Then I remembered yesterday’s disappointing finish, when I lost precious seconds right at the end. That memory was all the motivation I needed. I pushed harder over the final stretch and crossed the finish line seven seconds ahead of my target pace.

Those extra six seconds may not sound like much, but they represent progress.

If I can repeat today’s performance on Friday, I’ll be back on track toward setting new personal bests. Running has taught me that improvement rarely arrives in dramatic leaps. More often, it comes disguised as a handful of seconds, earned through consistency, patience, and the willingness to keep trying after yesterday didn’t go as planned.

So today, I’m happy.

Not because I ran a perfect race, but because I proved that yesterday’s disappointment was simply another step toward today’s success.

Sometimes, progress is measured not in miles, but in seconds.

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Running with Anemia: Learning Patience One Kilometer at a Time

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

My run this morning ended in disappointment, which is unfortunate because for most of the journey, success seemed perfectly happy to accompany me.

I was either meeting or slightly ahead of my target pace almost the entire way. Then, during the final quarter kilometer, something happened. I slipped twenty seconds behind. I never felt as though I had slowed down, but the stopwatch is a brutally honest companion and apparently disagreed with my assessment.

Still, despite the disappointing finish, victory was clearly within reach. That alone is encouraging.

I have dealt with anemia since childhood. After receiving treatment for my kidney condition, my doctor reminded me that anemia also needed attention. I was treated for it after my brain stroke years ago, and once again I began treatment in February 2026.

What surprised me was just how much anemia affected my running.

Until this year, I had accepted many things as normal. Since beginning treatment, I have noticed that I have more energy during my runs. Gradually, my pace has improved. Of course, now that I have tasted improvement, I naturally want more. Human beings are wonderfully unreasonable in that way. Give us progress, and we immediately ask whether there is a faster version available.

Although my current pace is significantly better than before treatment, improvement has become more difficult. That is hardly surprising. Running, much like life, refuses to cooperate with our desire for perfectly straight lines. Progress is more like the stock market than an elevator. There are ups and downs, good days and bad days, and occasionally days when one wonders whether gravity has become stronger overnight.

Summer has also brought additional physical activity. Lawn mowing, for example, turns out to be an excellent way to discover muscles one never knew existed. It is entirely possible that I was simply more tired than I realized.

Fortunately, patience is one of the most important lessons that running teaches. Progress never arrives in a perfectly orderly fashion. Internal factors, external conditions, and simple fatigue all play their part.

So, despite this morning’s disappointment, I remain optimistic.

The next run offers another opportunity.

And next time, I intend to remember that a race is not finished until the finish line actually appears. The final quarter kilometer, as I discovered this morning, apparently has a mischievous sense of humor.

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When the Air Feels Heavier Than the Workout

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Let me tell you just how humid it has been outside lately.

We had a relatively mild spring this year, but Nashville has finally decided to remind everyone where they live. The weather is settling into its familiar pattern of heat, humidity, and the constant possibility that the sky might suddenly become dramatic.

The humidity has reached the point where stepping outdoors feels less like entering the atmosphere and more like walking into a warm, damp sponge. The air seems to push against you from every direction. It is almost as if the weather is trying to give you a hug that you never asked for.

Of course, humidity is not an acceptable excuse for skipping a run. At least not in my book.

So I headed out as usual.

One pleasant surprise was that I managed to avoid getting rained on. That may not sound like much, but after several consecutive days of rain, it felt like a small victory. The recent weather had kept me indoors more than I would have liked, limiting many of my usual outdoor activities.

To be fair, this is not unusual for Nashville. Rain, thunderstorms, and tornado warnings are all part of the local experience. Summer here often feels like living inside a weather forecast.

Unfortunately, the absence of rain did not mean pleasant running conditions. The air remained thick and heavy, making every step feel slightly more difficult than it should have. I suspect the humidity played a significant role in my less-than-impressive performance. Sometimes the weather reminds you that it has a vote in your workout results.

Thankfully, my other morning exercises went much better.

I had also been concerned about our lawn. With so many rainy days, I had not been able to mow for a while, and the grass was beginning to look a little too enthusiastic about growing. Even after the rain stopped, the lawn remained damp because the humidity hovered above 90 percent. The grass seemed determined to hold onto every drop of moisture it could find.

My wife had her own concerns. She was worried she would not be able to use the weeding machine effectively. She usually takes care of the areas that the lawn mower cannot reach, but the ground and vegetation were still too wet to cooperate. According to her, the weather has simply refused to participate in our landscaping plans.

For now, all we can do is wait and hope for a few days of drier weather. The lawn, the weeds, and perhaps even the runners of Nashville would all appreciate a break from the humidity.

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I Finally Got Runner’s High (Here’s What It Felt Like)

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

I had my first runner’s high!

For years, I heard my wife talk about “runner’s high” with the reverent, slightly glazed-over look of someone describing a religious experience. She ran seriously back in the day, so she knew whereof she spoke. I always wondered: would I ever get there? Was I built for such transcendence? Could my legs carry me to the promised land of endorphin-fueled bliss?

Reader, they could.

My run on May 8th was already shaping up to be a personal milestone. I beat my target pace, set a new personal best, and came agonizingly close to logging my first sub-8-minute-per-kilometer, just a few seconds shy. Not bad for someone who has been quietly waging war on anemia.

Then, somewhere around the middle of my 4th kilometer, it happened. A warm, pleasant tingling crept up the back of my neck. I finished my run, slightly confused and extremely suspicious that I was either experiencing runner’s high or the early signs of a very benign haunting. I reported back to my wife, who has considerably more miles on her legs than I do. Her verdict: runner’s high. And apparently, it means you’re pushing yourself hard. High praise from the household running authority.

Now, I’d be remiss not to mention my anemia treatment, which I received just the day before. Was it the iron working its magic? A placebo boost from feeling like I was doing something about my blood? Honestly, who knows, but ever since starting treatment, my pace has climbed noticeably. The difference is, as they say, night and day. More endurance, more energy, more ability to actually finish a sentence without running out of, you know.

In other fitness news: 19 pullovers knocked out before the run, my plank is creeping back toward the 3-minute mark, and my flexibility is sitting at 170 degrees, close enough to a full split that I can practically smell 180. I anticipate getting there soon.

Until next time, may your pace be swift and your neck always tingle in the best possible way.

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