Tag: Running

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 Snow Day Struggles: Running Plans Thwarted, but Perspective Gained

Written February 19, 2025

reviewed 3/2

Hello Dear Readers,

Well, there goes my run—canceled, thanks to a generous overnight delivery from Mother Nature. Snow blanketed everything, and with temperatures stubbornly hanging below freezing, it’s not melting anytime soon. Schools across Nashville have shut their doors, throwing parents into chaos. Do they brave the roads and head to work, or do they scramble to find last-minute childcare? The great snow day debate. It’s a logistical nightmare for many, but keeping kids safe comes first.

For us, though? Not exactly a crisis. My wife works from home now, a far cry from her former 80-hour-a-week, always-on-the-move lifestyle. She used to thrive on that pace—until I nearly died from a brain stroke. That changed everything. She still brings it up sometimes, but I know there’s a lot she doesn’t say. She doesn’t need to. The shift in her priorities says it all. These days, she avoids crowded spaces, dodges anyone who so much as sniffles, and keeps a close eye on me. To most people, I probably look fine—no obvious signs of past medical issues. But my kidneys are still compromised, and something as minor as a cold could spiral into something serious. My wife knows that. And she never forgets.

Truthfully, I don’t blame her. I worked hard—really hard—to regain as much function as possible. The last thing I want is to put my family through that kind of fear again. Once was more than enough.

Remote work has been a game-changer for her. Some people hate it—too many distractions, not enough structure. But for her? It’s perfect. She thrives on creating processes, developing automation, and solving complex problems that most people wouldn’t even know where to begin. Nothing really breaks her focus. Well, almost nothing. The fear of my near-death experience still lingers in the background, even if she doesn’t always talk about it. Instead of letting it paralyze her, she adapted. If she can’t erase the fear, she can at least manage it—and working from home is part of that strategy.

As for me, I have mixed feelings about today’s forced break. On one hand, I wasn’t exactly excited about an hour-long run in below-freezing temperatures. On the other hand, I don’t like missing scheduled runs. Skipping throws off my rhythm, and I know how easily one missed workout can turn into two, then three. But if I can’t run, I can at least make myself useful.

Shoveling it is. Not the full driveway—that’s asking too much—but enough to clear a path for any brave delivery drivers attempting to make their rounds. Amazon doesn’t care about the weather, and I’d rather not have packages stranded in a snowbank. It’s not the workout I planned, but it’s still movement, and at least it gives me an excuse to step outside.

So, no run today. But I’ll survive. And hopefully, so will my perfectly timed book order.

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Rain, Rogue GPS, and the Mysterious Vanishing Kilometers

Written February 16, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Some runs feel like a victory lap. Others? A battle against the elements, technology, and one’s own patience. Yesterday’s run firmly belonged in the latter category.

It all started with rain. Not the cinematic kind, where you look heroic, sprinting through a storm with determination in your eyes. No, this was the persistently annoying variety—too light to justify quitting but steady enough to be irritating. I ran anyway, determined to get my usual 10k in. The universe, however, had other plans.

About halfway through, I glanced at my running app and noticed something was off. It had only logged one kilometer. One. I had covered at least five. I stopped, restarted the app, and, like any stubborn runner with a love-hate relationship with technology, decided to run another 5k just to make sure the second half was tracked correctly. It worked—sort of. The second 5k showed up fine, but the first half of my run had been swallowed into the digital abyss, never to be seen again. And just like that, my running records were now permanently haunted by a mysterious missing 4k.

Curious (and mildly exasperated), I looked into why this happened. Turns out, GPS signals don’t always play nice with rain. While light rain doesn’t do much, heavier rain can scatter the signals enough to make devices struggle. That explained my app’s refusal to acknowledge half my workout. The logic makes sense, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating when you’re staring at an incomplete run in your stats.

Now, if you ask my wife, she’d say I shouldn’t even be looking at the daily numbers. “Look at the long-term progress,” she always tells me. “People get discouraged when they fixate on single-day stats. That’s how they end up quitting.” She had to learn that lesson the hard way—being results-driven meant she used to stress over every little fluctuation. Me? Not so much. I like having numbers, but I don’t let them dictate my mood. Still, I see her point. If a missing 4k had the power to make or break my commitment to running, I probably wouldn’t have lasted this long.

At the end of the day, my legs still got their workout, my heart still did its thing, and the health benefits remained intact—regardless of what my app said. It’s a minor annoyance, sure, but it’s not like my fitness depends on perfect tracking. That being said, I won’t pretend I wasn’t tempted to manually add the missing kilometers just to restore my stats. I resisted. (Barely.)

So, the moral of the story? Rain happens. Technology fails. And sometimes, you just have to run another 5k out of sheer stubbornness. But in the grand scheme of things, what matters isn’t a missing stat—it’s the habit, the discipline, and the fact that I got out there in the first place. And if I ever need proof, my sore legs will be more than happy to remind me.

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Winter’s Sneaky Comeback and My Sore-Legged Recovery Day

Written February 9, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

This morning, I innocently peeked outside, expecting to see the same pleasant scenery from just a few days ago. Instead, I was met with a brutal slap of icy air, sharp enough to make me reconsider all my life choices. The mild temperatures of the past few days had been a cruel deception. The tiny green sprouts that had optimistically popped up earlier in the week? Gone. Buried under the relentless grip of winter’s encore performance.

I swear, nature has a cruel sense of humor. One day, it’s all sunshine and warm breezes, luring you into a false sense of security. The next, it sucker-punches you with a reality check in the form of bone-chilling wind. And today? Today was the kind of cold that makes you rethink your entire relationship with the great outdoors.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to deal with it. Sundays are my designated recovery days, meaning I had no reason to step outside and voluntarily freeze. As long as I stayed inside my warm little fortress, winter could do whatever it wanted. I wasn’t participating.

Now, about my legs. After months of dedicated running, I’ve built up enough endurance that muscle soreness rarely visits me. So, when I woke up and felt that familiar ache, I knew I had done something right. Yesterday’s run must have been extra brutal because my legs were making their displeasure known. Stiff, sore, and just dramatic enough to make me shuffle around like I had aged a few decades overnight.

But soreness is secretly a good thing. It means progress. It means my muscles are rebuilding, hopefully, stronger and faster than before. Maybe—just maybe—this is the kind of soreness that results in a breakthrough. Perhaps next week, I’ll find myself shaving seconds off my pace, gliding through my runs like some sort of gazelle. Or, you know, at least not feeling like I’m dragging bricks for legs.

In the meantime, today is all about stretching. I’ve actually been pretty consistent with it, mostly because I found a way to trick my brain into doing it. The secret? Pairing it with planking. After every plank session, I roll right into some leg stretches. It’s a system that works suspiciously well, and since I usually plank multiple times a day, I end up getting in at least three or more solid stretching sessions without even thinking about a small habit, but a game-changer for keeping my legs in running shape.

So, while the outside world insists on being a frozen wasteland, I’ll be in here, stretching, planking, and basking in the warmth of my personal sanctuary. I’ll let winter do its thing, and I’ll do mine—until tomorrow when I have to lace up my running shoes again and face whatever fresh weather betrayal awaits.

But that’s a problem for future me. Today, I am inside. Today, I recovered. And today, I pretend that winter doesn’t exist.

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Weather Betrayal and the Art of Finding Joy Anyway

Written February 5, 2025

Hello, dear readers!

Monday’s run was glorious. The kind of day that tricks you into believing winter is finally packing its bags and heading for the hills. The sun was shining, the temperature was perfect, and for a fleeting moment, I thought, Maybe—just maybe—spring has arrived.

Ha.

The universe must have heard my foolish optimism and decided to intervene immediately. By Tuesday, the temperature had plummeted 15 degrees. Today? Another 10. At this point, I half-expect to wake up tomorrow and find a fresh layer of snow just to complete winter’s petty revenge arc.

It’s still not as bitterly cold as last week, but somehow, that one warm day spoiled me. I had already started fantasizing about running in short sleeves again, and now I’m back to layering up like an Arctic explorer. Funny how a single glimpse of spring makes returning to winter feel even worse than before.

Adding to the tease, the warm spell coaxed some early greenery out of hiding. My wife, ever the keen observer, stood by the window, enjoying the sight of those fresh little sprouts. And then, as if winter took offense at our moment of joy, the cold came roaring back. Typical Midwest. Having lived here, I should’ve known better. Midwest weather doesn’t transition—it mood-swings.

But what’s the point of complaining? It won’t change a thing. Might as well put my feelings of betrayal, disappointment, and mild outrage into a neat little box labeled Things I Cannot Control. It’s a pretty full box at this point.

At least my walk to the doctor’s office yesterday was pleasant. The temperature was still hanging on to some remnants of warmth, and I even managed to enjoy the stroll. The appointment went smoothly—always a plus—and, as promised, I rewarded my responsible adulting with a cupcake on the way home.

Now, let’s talk about that cupcake. Was my favorite flavor available? No. Was I momentarily devastated? A little. But I soldiered on, selected another, and—no surprises here—it was delicious. Honestly, I don’t think this bakery is even capable of making a bad cupcake. Some places just have that magic touch.

Of course, my wife, being the mysterious and perplexing individual she is, remains indifferent to cupcakes. I do not understand this. How does one simply not care about cupcakes? This is one of life’s great mysteries, alongside Why does toast always land butter-side down? and Why do socks vanish in the laundry? But alas, she was unmoved by my confectionary enthusiasm, so I had to enjoy my sweet reward solo. Her loss.

Let the temperatures play their cruel little games. I refuse to let them dictate my mood. If winter wants to be temperamental, fine—I’ll just keep finding my own ways to enjoy the day.

And if that happens to involve another cupcake next week? Well, who am I to argue with fate?

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How I Stay Motivated to Run and Plank

Written 02/01/2025

Hello Dear Readers,

This morning, I decided to reward myself with an extra 30 minutes in bed. Not out of laziness—no, this was a well-earned bonus round of rest. When I finally stretched awake, my body had plenty to say about yesterday’s workout. My abs, shoulders, and arms all ached in that satisfying, you did something tough kind of way. The culprit? Three solid planking sessions.

Now, if you had asked me a few weeks ago whether I’d voluntarily hold a plank multiple times a day, I would have laughed and changed the subject. But here I am, surprising even myself. I’ve already checked off one session this morning, but I’m gunning for at least two. My ultimate goal is to conquer the elusive three-minute plank, and until I get there, consistency is the name of the game.

Speaking of consistency, let’s talk about the tricky beast that is exercise. Staying committed to a fitness routine isn’t always fun. Some days, I feel unstoppable; other days, my legs protest even the thought of movement. The secret, I’ve found, is to make exercise less of a chore and more of a challenge. Instead of dragging myself through a routine, I turn it into a game.

And this month? The game just got a fresh update. My running app has rolled out new monthly challenges, and I am all in. I used to be a gamer, so this setup feels oddly familiar—like accepting quests in an RPG. But instead of slaying dragons or looting treasure, I’m chasing down miles and racking up achievements.

First up on today’s list: a 10K run. Not only will that check off one of my monthly challenges, but it will also give me a head start on the others. The app typically hands me three major quests each month—a single 10K run, a 50K total distance challenge, and a two-month 150K challenge. It’s like leveling up my real-world endurance, one run at a time. As long as I stick to my own running expectations, I tend to complete them all.

For tracking, I use the ASICS Runkeeper app. The free version has everything I need, though the premium upgrade unlocks extra features. I haven’t felt the urge to splurge on it yet—partly because my wife and I already use the free version to keep tabs on each other’s progress. Having a workout partner, even virtually, makes a big difference. Some days, she’s the one pushing ahead, which inspires me to lace up and hit the pavement. On other days, it’s me leading the charge. Either way, it keeps us both accountable.

So, as I sit here sipping my coffee, psyching myself up for that 10K, I remind myself: fitness isn’t about punishing your body—it’s about challenging it. And the best way to stay motivated? Make it fun, set goals, and turn it into a quest worth pursuing.

Now, it’s time to gear up and earn today’s bragging rights.

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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.

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A Warmer Week and the Battle Against Procrastination

Written January 27, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

At long last, it seems the days of running in the bone-chilling cold are behind me. No more bracing for that sharp, icy slap of air first thing in the morning. As long as I give the sun a little time to do its job, the temperatures are downright pleasant. Granted, today still has a bit of a seasonal chill, but compared to last week? Practically tropical. And if the forecast holds, we might even tiptoe into actual warm territory soon.

With the start of a new week, I’m determined to hit the ground running—both literally and figuratively. I’ve stacked my to-do list a little higher than usual since my wife has been working longer hours. It’s her busiest season (audit and tax season—fun times), so I’m trying to take some things off her plate. A small gesture, but one that hopefully makes a difference.

The upside of this milder weather? My runs are feeling smoother, and faster when it’s too cold, my body protests. But now? Now, I can focus on picking up my pace and making the most of my workouts. And, of course, with spring around the corner, outdoor chores are about to demand their fair share of attention.

After wrapping up my morning exercise, I dove into my other tasks. Blog post? Almost done. Run? Still on the agenda. And then there’s my writing project—the one I’ve been neglecting. I plan to chip away at it while listening to Sanderson’s writing lectures, which, if I’m being honest, I should have been doing last week.

Confession time: I completely slacked off. I let distractions win. Writing? Ignored. Lectures? Skipped. The result? I’m further behind than I should be, and to make matters worse, I’m still floundering when it comes to figuring out how long writing a book should take. That uncertainty makes it too easy to procrastinate.

My wife, on the other hand, takes a much more structured approach. Whenever she starts a new writing project, she logs everything—research time, drafting hours, and revisions. She fully admits her memory isn’t great for tracking details, so she writes it all down. And here’s the key: after going through the process a few times, she gets a clear sense of how long each phase takes. She’s cracked the code.

Maybe it’s time I do the same. If I track my progress, I might finally figure out what’s realistic instead of just guessing (or, worse, stalling). So, here’s to getting back on track—one run, one blog post, and one writing session at a time.

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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!

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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.

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Freezing, Running, and My War on Winter

Written January 15, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Ah, procrastination—my old, frosty friend. Today, it’s teaming up with the weather as I wait for the thermometer to nudge just above freezing. Sure, it’ll still be cold, but freezing feels like the universal “nope” line. Good news? I don’t have to wait long. Bad news? My calves are staging a coup from Monday’s run, and my right knee is voicing its displeasure. But let’s be real. Neither is dramatic enough to get me out of today’s self-imposed “fun run.”

Speaking of fun, I’ve implemented a new policy: no hitting the target pace, no stopping early. Brilliant, right? Until you realize it means running longer than planned. Outside, the chill has zero festive charm—no snowflakes, no sparkly icicles, just a vast, icy wasteland that feels like nature’s walk-in freezer. I don’t remember it being this cold in the last five years here. Winter’s overachieving, and frankly, it’s rude.

Flashback to yesterday: I returned from my run absolutely frozen. Pro tip: while running does raise your body temperature, it apparently has limits. When the air is so cold that your body says, “You know what? Nope, you’re on your own,” it’s time to reevaluate life choices—or at least your wardrobe. My wife, ever the voice of reason, gently reminded me to wear a hat. Thankfully, I’ve got a winter headgear setup that would make Arctic explorers jealous. So, my ears are safe, even if the rest of me feels like a popsicle.

Now, I’m gearing up for today’s showdown. The plan? Beat my target pace in the first 5k and call it a day. If not, I’ll push to 10k because stubbornness is my superpower. It’s a tactical adjustment to keep me on track with my yearly distance goal while nudging my speed in the right direction. Realistically, most of my gains will come in the more cooperative seasons of spring and fall. But hey, winter’s a worthy nemesis, and I’m not backing down.

Here’s hoping today’s run brings a win—and maybe, just maybe, slightly warmer toes.