Category: Running

Posted on

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.

Back

Posted on

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.

Back
Posted on

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.

Back

Posted on

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.

Back
Posted on

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.

Back

Posted on

Running on Empty: Life with Anemia and a 10K

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

I’ll be honest with you: this evening, I am utterly, magnificently exhausted. I attempted my weekly 10K, and my running app, with all the tact of a traffic cone, informed me that I did not, in fact, complete the full distance. My body already knew. My body had filed the paperwork on that one halfway through.

Here’s the backstory, if you’re new here: I was born with Thalassemia, a hereditary blood disorder that in my case has traveled in some very unwelcome company. My kidneys no longer work the way a healthy adult’s do, which means I’ve been dealing with severe anemia on top of everything else. To manage it, I’ve been receiving treatment, booster shots to give my blood the iron backbone it’s currently refusing to grow on its own.

The treatment has genuinely helped. I’m better than I was. But “better” is a relative word, and on days like today, sweaty, stubborn summer days, I’m reminded that my tank fills more slowly than most people’s. Summer is the hardest season because the yard doesn’t care that I have a blood disorder. It still grows. The weeds still insist on living their best lives.

Since my wife is flat-out busy with work, the yard work falls to me. And since I’m apparently constitutionally incapable of doing just one physically demanding thing at a time, I also fit in workouts on top of it. Sometimes, mid-task, I get this very specific feeling, a quiet signal from my body that says, “We have not fully recovered from the last thing. Please advise.” I try to advise accordingly.

Back
Posted on

From Stroke Survivor to 10K Runner: My Pace Story

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Let’s take a moment to appreciate mornings when the universe actually cooperates. This morning was one of those rare gifts: perfect shorts weather, not a raindrop in sight despite the forecast’s best threats, and barely a whisper of wind. In other words, ideal running conditions. the kind that make you feel like you’ve got rocket boosters hidden in your sneakers.

And rocket-boosted I felt. My pace numbers agreed, which is always satisfying (nothing worse than feeling fast and then looking at your watch in despair).

I’ve been on a genuine upswing with my running pace lately, and I’ve been thinking about why. The answer, I’m fairly certain, is muscle conditioning. A few years back, I added strength training to my regular running, and, honestly, summers nearly broke me. Running, lawn mowing, and resistance exercise all at once? Even a machine would protest. So last year I got smart about it: I split my workouts into focused sessions — arms one day, something else the next. That small tweak changed everything. I was finally able to keep training through the heat without melting into the sidewalk.

The results have been real. My body fat percentage is now below 13%. I’m leaner. I’m stronger. I can feel it in the way I move.

11 Years Ago

Here’s the part of the story that gives all of this meaning: I had a brain stroke. When it happened, I was in a coma for the first 11 days, and then in bed for nearly two months, mostly sleeping, mostly still. By the time I moved to a long-term care facility, I had lost all the muscle I’d ever built. And I don’t just mean I was out of shape. I had to relearn everything: how to walk, how to move my hand, how to eat.

That first year, my wife and I walked every single day. I had a walker. I had to rest every five minutes. My wife pushed me, gently and persistently, to keep moving my legs. Slowly, those shuffling walks became a routine. Then a habit. Then 1.3 miles. Then, after my wife bought me my first real pair of running shoes, something that started to resemble actual running.

By the time we moved to Nashville, I was jogging, slowly, but jogging. Over the years that followed, I built myself up until I could run 10 kilometers. My wife told me I should be very proud of that, and she’s right. Surviving a brain stroke is something. Getting back to this is something else entirely.

Now I’m working on pace.

This morning, I finished 16 seconds ahead of my target. I then knocked out two sets of pull-ups, a set of 10 and a set of 8, which is exactly what I was aiming for.

Not bad for a guy who once had to rest every five minutes.

Keep moving, keep surprising yourself.

Back

Posted on

Getting Back to Running After a Week Off

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

The weather app had spoken, and for once it was right: temperatures hovering firmly below the Great Shorts Threshold. After much trial and error, and at least one very chilly calf’s experience, I’ve determined that 65°F is my personal Rubicon when it comes to running attire: below it, long pants; above it, shorts. My body temperature regulation, it turns out, is not exactly a finely tuned machine, so I’ve learned to outsmart it with a well-considered wardrobe.

Here in Nashville, the first item of business every spring morning is consulting the weather app like it’s an oracle. And Nashville spring, bless its volatile heart, is not for the faint of schedule. We’re talking wild temperature swings, sudden thunderstorms, and the occasional tornado as a bonus surprise. This city keeps things interesting.

I’m an outdoor activity enthusiast by default, running four times a week, mowing the lawn from spring through autumn, and generally treating the outside as my gym. Rain won’t stop me from running; neither will extreme heat or cold, though I’ve drawn the line at thunder (I’m active, not reckless). The secret, I’ve discovered, is simply dressing for the weather. Revolutionary concept, I know.

When it gets hot, anything threatening to climb past 80°F, I become an early bird. Morning runs and yard work only, before the sun decides to really commit to its agenda. Running in the heat is, to put it elegantly, deeply unpleasant.

This particular morning, I started with breakfast as usual, then faced the happy challenge of getting back to my exercise routine after a full week off. The pullups went surprisingly well, 10 reps, a short rest, then 7 more. The muscles apparently took their vacation but kept their memories intact. Small victories.

The run, however, was a different story. I let things warm up a bit, laced up with optimism, and then proceeded to finish well behind my target pace. My legs, it seems, had their own agenda. Maybe my body was carrying more fatigue than I realized. The good news? The rest of the week’s runs are just opportunities to do better.

Here’s to lacing up anyway, tired legs, uncertain weather, and all.

Back

Posted on

Running in Spring: Patience, Progress & Bad Weather Days

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Mother Nature, it seems, has never heard of consistency, unlike me. One day she’s all sunshine and warmth, luring me outside in shorts, and the next she’s quietly laughing as I dig out my long sleeves again. That was yesterday: a chilly curveball after a perfectly nice day, which somehow made it feel even colder than it actually was.

Here’s the thing about my body: my brain stroke left me with a bit of a broken thermostat. Warming up and cooling down take me far longer than they used to, so picking the right outfit before a run isn’t just a fashion choice, it’s a survival strategy. Layers in, layers out; I’m basically a human onion on legs.

The good news is that next week is looking gloriously mid-to-high 70s across the board. I’ll take it. Yesterday’s run, though? Not my finest hour. I missed my target pace and finished the 10th kilometer a full minute-plus behind where I’d hoped to be. My legs are even more sore today than they were yesterday, which I’m choosing to interpret as a sign that they’re busy getting stronger. (This is what runners tell themselves. We’re a hopeful bunch.)

I’ve still got a good stretch of improvement ahead of me before I hit my end-of-year speed goal. Spring is my window; once summer rolls in with its heat and humidity, things tend to slow down whether I like it or not. So I’m planning to make the most of the next few months.

At the end of the day, running is a patience game. I’ve been at this consistently for nearly ten years, and in that time I’ve learned that a bad run doesn’t erase a good one. Some days my legs show up ready to go; other days they’re still settling a grudge from yesterday’s resistance workout. Both kinds of days count. And consistency? That’s the real secret. Not talent, not perfect weather, not the fanciest shoes. Just showing up, over and over, one kilometer at a time.

Until next time, keep putting one foot in front of the other (preferably in weather-appropriate footwear).

Back
Posted on

Consistent Running: Patience, Progress & Bad Weather Days

Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke

Mother Nature, it seems, has never heard of consistency, unlike me. One day she’s all sunshine and warmth, luring me outside in shorts, and the next she’s quietly laughing as I dig out my long sleeves again. That was yesterday: a chilly curveball after a perfectly nice day, which somehow made it feel even colder than it actually was.

Here’s the thing about my body: my brain stroke left me with a bit of a broken thermostat. Warming up and cooling down take me far longer than they used to, so picking the right outfit before a run isn’t just a fashion choice. It’s a survival strategy. Layers in, layers out; I’m basically a human onion on legs.

The good news is that next week is looking gloriously mild, mid-to-high 70s across the board. I’ll take it. Yesterday’s run, though? Not my finest hour. I missed my target pace and finished the 10th kilometer over a full minute behind where I’d hoped to be. My legs are even more sore today than they were yesterday, which I’m choosing to interpret as a sign that they’re busy getting stronger. (This is what runners tell themselves. We’re a hopeful bunch.)

I’ve still got a good stretch of improvement ahead of me before I hit my end-of-year speed goal. Spring is my window. And once summer rolls in with its heat and humidity, things tend to slow down, whether I like it or not. So I’m planning to make the most of the next few months.

At the end of the day, running is a game of patience. I’ve been at this consistently for nearly ten years, and in that time I’ve learned that a bad run doesn’t erase a good one. Some days my legs show up ready to go; other days they’re still settling a grudge from yesterday’s resistance workout. Both kinds of days count. And consistency? That’s the real secret. Not talent, not perfect weather, not the fanciest shoes. Just showing up, over and over, one kilometer at a time.

Until next time, keep putting one foot in front of the other (preferably in weather-appropriate footwear).

Back