Running, Weather, and the Fine Art of Not Wrecking My Kidneys

Written January 30, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Yesterday’s run? Surprisingly pleasant. The weather was in that sweet spot—chilly enough to make standing around feel like a questionable life choice but with just enough sun to turn things comfortable once I got moving. It’s that perfect running paradox: too cold to stand still, too warm to bundle up. And best of all? I managed to beat my target pace for the first 5K again, which means I’m still holding onto my ever-diminishing speed goals. A small but satisfying victory.

Now, let’s talk about my body’s complicated relationship with temperature. Ever since my brain stroke, my autonomic nervous system has been a bit of a diva—it no longer regulates heat or cold properly. If the weather swings too far in either direction, my endurance takes a nosedive. Some runners struggle with pacing, others with motivation. I struggle with the fundamental issue of my body, deciding it simply does not approve of temperature extremes. It’s like a toddler refusing to eat anything but macaroni and cheese.

Because of this, I’ve been forced to become a part runner and part-amateur meteorologist. I check the forecast religiously, sometimes more than I check my emails. My weather app claims it can predict the weather up to 10 days in advance, though let’s be honest—it’s basically fortune-telling after a week. Still, it gives me a decent heads-up on what’s coming. And when you have a body that treats temperature changes like a personal betrayal, planning ahead is crucial.

Take tomorrow, for example. Warmer weather is on the way, which means hydration is about to become my new best friend. That also means my pace might start to slow because staying hydrated and pushing for speed don’t always go hand in hand. And here’s where things get tricky. I love progress. I love seeing the numbers on my running app improve. But I also love having functioning kidneys, and unfortunately, one comes at the expense of the other.

Dehydration is bad for anyone, but for me, it’s particularly risky. My kidneys already function at less than full capacity, so letting them get parched isn’t just a bad idea—it’s a potentially dangerous one. Pushing my limits is one thing; actively sabotaging my health is another.

So, if I have to choose between breaking a personal record and keeping my body happy, I’ll choose my health every time. Okay, maybe not happily, but let’s call it a mature decision. It’s the kind of choice I’ll have to keep reminding myself of mid-run, especially when the competitive part of my brain whispers, just a little faster, you can still beat it.

But in the end, running is about longevity, not just speed. And if slowing down a little means I get to keep running for years to come? That’s a trade I’m willing to make even if my inner speed demon protests the entire way.

Relentless Forward Motion: Embracing the Grind, One Run at a Time

Written 01/26/2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Ah, what a difference a week makes! The weather has finally decided to cooperate, and my runs are feeling much more bearable. Yesterday was so mild that I nearly ditched my windbreaker altogether. Gloves? Left them behind. And guess what? I didn’t regret it.

Running in this kind of weather is a dream. My body isn’t wasting energy trying to keep warm or cool down—it’s actually focusing on, you know, running. And the results? Well, let’s just say I had a good day. Not only did I crush my target pace for two consecutive 5Ks, but I also set a new personal best for my 10K. Not too shabby for a guy who, just a few years ago, had to relearn how to control his body.

My goal for this year? A sub-9-minute-per-kilometer 5K. Ambitious? Maybe. But here’s the kicker: It’s only January, and I’ve already pushed my pace down to 9:32/km. That’s progress. Real, tangible progress.

Now, let’s talk about running for a second. It’s a weird sport. Improvement is painfully slow, especially if you start from zero—trust me, I know. I wouldn’t call myself fast (or even moderately speedy), but I’m persistent. Whether the weather is unforgivingly cold or oppressively hot, I lace up and hit the road. I don’t quit. I just keep going.

My wife once told me that, eventually, running wouldn’t feel like a struggle—it would just be something I did. And she was right. At some point, my body got used to it. Even more surprisingly, I started experiencing what she calls “runner’s high.” She used to rave about how addictive it was, and while I wouldn’t say I’m hooked just yet, I do get it now. There’s something incredibly rewarding about seeing progress, even when it happens at a pace that would make a snail yawn.

Zooming out and looking at my progress over a year instead of obsessing over daily runs? That’s when I truly see how far I’ve come.

Of course, once summer rolls around, I expect my pace to slow down again—because running in the heat is basically self-inflicted suffering. But come fall, I’ll be ready to pick up speed again. The key is consistency. Just keep running, and the results will follow.

Oh, and speaking of progress, my planking game is back on track. Two-minute sessions are feeling solid again, thanks to the new platform. So, endurance? We’re rebuilding that, too.

All in all, I’d say things are looking pretty good. Now, let’s see what next week’s runs bring!

The Weather’s a Trickster, and So Is My Mind

Written January 20, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Today, Nashville has officially decided to test my limits. It’s the coldest day of the season so far, and yesterday, it even had the nerve to snow—just a little. But instead of sticking around like a proper winter scene, the snow pulled a vanishing act. Gone. No trace. Like it had second thoughts about being here, this left me with an internal debate: No snow means the roads are fine, so I should go run. But the air feels like it was imported straight from the Arctic, so maybe I should… not.

Cue the battle of wills. On one side, the rational me: You’ll feel great once you get going! Running in the cold builds character! Think of the endorphins! On the other side, the devil on my shoulder: It’s freezing. Your couch is warm. You could stay inside and drink something hot like a civilized person. The devil makes a compelling argument.

Nashville’s weather, I’ve realized, operates on its own chaotic logic. We don’t get those long, predictable seasons like in Portland, Oregon, where I used to live. Instead, we get extremes—either melting asphalt in summer or air that bites in winter. My body, thanks to an uncooperative autonomic nervous system, doesn’t adjust well. Before my brain stroke, I used to think my wife had the most finicky internal thermostat—too hot, too cold, too humid, too dry, never just right. Now? I am the reigning champion of temperature intolerance. The gold medalist of feeling the weather too much.

So, I compromised. Instead of heading out first thing in the morning like usual, I postponed my run. Maybe if I waited, the temperature would rise a little. Maybe the sun would be kind and throw me a few degrees of mercy. Spoiler: It won’t. Today is one of those days where the high temperature and the low temperature are essentially the same. In other words, cold now, cold later, cold forever.

Eventually, I’ll have to face the inevitable: bundling up like I’m about to summit Everest and forcing myself out the door. The plan is simple—hit my target pace for the first 5K, and I get to stop early. One hour in the cold, no more. If I don’t hit that pace? Well, then I’m stuck running the full 10K as punishment. My version of self-accountability: run fast or run more.

I know, logically, that once I start moving, the cold will be less of an issue. The first five minutes will be miserable, but then my body will adjust, and I’ll find my rhythm. I always do. The real challenge isn’t the temperature—it’s shutting up the part of my brain that keeps whispering excuses.

So, off I go. Because if I give in to the couch today, what’s stopping me from doing it tomorrow? And the next day? That’s how routines fall apart. That’s how discipline slips. And that’s not happening.

Not today, Devil.

This Is How I Overcame The Aftereffect of Brain Stroke

Written September 18, 2024

Hello Dear Readers,

I saw my running pace has improved significantly in the last couple of days, and I’m thrilled about the results. The temperature has dropped considerably compared to a few weeks ago. The cooler weather has made a noticeable difference to my running as I found it easier to push myself further. I’ve recently achieved my target pace of below 10 minutes per kilometer, and today, I hit a new personal best for my 5k time.

It’s hard to believe how far I’ve come since my brain stroke in 2015. Back then, my brain struggled to send signals to my legs, even though I remembered exactly how to walk or run. It felt like typing on a disconnected keyboard—no matter what I did, there was no response. The doctors explained that my neural pathway for walking or running had completely vanished. I had to relearn everything from scratch, starting with weeks of rehabilitation just to take a few steps.

Those early months were challenging. Learning to walk without a walker or any support took a tremendous amount of effort and time. I faced another hurdle at work, where my brain couldn’t filter out unnecessary information, making it difficult to focus. Then, I truly understood the intricate abilities we take for granted.

Determined not to give up, my wife and I began walking every day, although I had to rest frequently just to cover 1.5 miles. Then, one day, I told her I wanted to learn how to run. She was understandably concerned at first because the running could strain my kidneys. I was serious about it. I started with my old running shoes, but it wasn’t really running—more like fast walking, with a lot of stumbling. After a month of trying, my wife suggested I get a good pair of running shoes. That small change made a huge difference, making each step feel lighter.

To track my progress, she set up an Excel sheet where I could log my runs, and she even got me the Zombie Run app to add some excitement to my routine. It turned my running into an adventure rather than a chore.

It took years for me to see the full extent of my progress. When we moved to Tennessee in 2018, my mother noticed the muscle definition in my calves. When I lost my mobility after my stroke, I had lost so much muscle mass in the months following my stroke that it felt like a victory to have someone point out my runner’s legs. My endurance had also increased, allowing me to tackle more tasks without feeling exhausted. I felt genuinely proud of myself for the first time in a long while.

After achieving my distance goal last year, I decided to focus more on improving my pace. It added extra challenges as I had to monitor my pace during my run. I get tired very quickly because of my kidney, so I have to know when to stop pushing myself. My running suffers during summer due to its heat. Despite a few setbacks along the way, I kept moving forward. My goal is to set a new best at least once a week, and I’ve been getting multiple of my fastest records in rows. Now, I find myself wondering how many personal records I can possibly create.

The journey hasn’t been easy, but every small victory feels monumental. And with each run, I’m reminded of how far I’ve come—from relearning to walk to becoming someone who now sets running records. It’s a journey that’s as much about perseverance as it is about running.