Tag: running motivation

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The Perils of Time Change and Skunks

Written March 10, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Ah yes, it’s that time of year again—the dreaded time change. Most states in the U.S. go through this ritual, allegedly for a good reason, but let’s be honest: it’s mostly just a nuisance. My wife and I were both thoroughly unimpressed to find ourselves waking up to pre-dawn darkness this morning. Nothing says good morning like fumbling around in the dark, wondering why the universe has conspired against you.

As if losing an hour of morning light wasn’t bad enough, my wife had a less-than-pleasant encounter during her morning workout. She spotted a skunk. Yes, a skunk—nature’s own chemical warfare specialist, a creature that thrives under the cover of darkness. Speaking of skunks, we’ve had our own personal skunk horror story. One particularly cold winter evening, a skittish skunk got startled by the sudden roar of our heating system kicking on. In a panic, it unleashed its full arsenal. The wretched stench seeped into the house as warm air circulated, and out of all the rooms, my study bore the brunt of the assault. To this day, I suspect the culprit is the same smug little skunk my wife just spotted.

Now, she lives in fear of another skunk ambush during her workouts. And who could blame her? The absolute last thing anyone wants is to be doused in skunk spray before breakfast. That kind of disaster lingers. Literally.

My wife firmly believes that seasonal wildlife sightings are nature’s own calendar. According to her, as long as she’s still spotting owls and skunks, winter isn’t quite over yet. I can’t argue with that logic—especially since she’s the one out there facing these creatures while I’m still contemplating whether to get out of bed.

But back to the time change. I can’t shake the feeling that this abrupt shift disrupts the natural rhythm of things. Just last week, I was waking up to bright, golden dawns, but now? Darkness, again. It’s a setback. For my wife, the frustration lies in losing that perfect moment at the end of her workout—the serene sight of the sun rising. For me, it’s a simple yet profound demotivator. Whether it’s pitch dark or broad daylight when I wake up, my enthusiasm for running remains highly weather-dependent.

I had grand plans to start running first thing in the morning starting today, but alas, the temperature still has other ideas. It’s just a bit too chilly at dawn to leap enthusiastically into a jog, so that schedule change is officially postponed until further notice. Let’s call it weather permitting.

Besides, I have a bigger goal in mind—I want to avoid running in the unbearable heat of summer. To do that, I’ll need to ease into an earlier schedule as the temperatures allow. Of course, March in Nashville is a wildcard, with temperatures swinging wildly between springtime bliss and winter’s last hurrah. So, my approach is simple: stay flexible, monitor the forecasts, and start my sunrise runs when the weather demands it.

Until then, I’ll just have to deal with the darkness, the cold, and the looming possibility of rogue skunks. Welcome to spring.

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The Grand Canyon Didn’t Break Me, So Neither Will My 10K Pace

Written March 1, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Yesterday, I was on top of the world—or at least, on top of my running game. My 5K was a total success, smashing my target pace and dipping under 9 minutes per kilometer for the first time. Naturally, my mind started racing faster than my legs: If I keep this up, I’ll be setting a whole new goal for the year!

And then came today.

While my pace wasn’t quite as speedy, I still clocked my fastest 10K yet—just a few seconds per kilometer shy of my yearly goal. Not bad, right? But it got me thinking: so many factors affect my running pace. Distance, my body’s condition on the day, the weather—whether I’m battling a light breeze or running headfirst into a windstorm. Today, it was all about the distance.

There’s a world of difference between a 5K and a 10K. Some runners barely blink at the distinction; they lace up and conquer either without breaking stride. My wife told me about her old running buddies in Canada who were exactly like that. She, however, worked tirelessly to get there—only to realize that natural aptitude plays a role too.

But she also says consistency can take you far. Maybe not to the Olympics, but certainly further and faster than you’d expect. When she first mentioned it, I brushed it off. I wasn’t that serious about running. But over the years, as I watched my progress unfold, I started to appreciate the power of steady effort.

A prime example? The Grand Canyon.

A while back, we visited, and my wife—ever the hiking enthusiast—decided we’d walk everywhere. Skip the bus? Sure. Wander the steep, winding trails? Why not? By the time we finished, we had covered well over 10 miles, including a particularly hilly section of the canyon. And yet, I felt strong. Years ago, I would have needed to sit and rest every few minutes just to try to walk again. That day, though? No problem. My endurance had improved more than I’d ever realized.

So, yeah—consistency works.

That’s why I keep running. That’s why today’s run, even if not as fast as I’d hoped, was still an essential step forward. If I put in the effort this week, next week will be even better. And who knows? By the end of the year, I might just be chasing the 8-minute-per-kilometer mark.

One step, one run, one breakthrough at a time.

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Running Through the Chill: A Battle Against Nashville’s Winter

Written February 19, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

February is nearly in the rearview mirror, but Nashville isn’t ready to let go of winter just yet. The city seems determined to keep us wrapped in layers, clinging to the cold like an overzealous guest who refuses to leave the party. And now, just to keep things interesting, the forecast is throwing snow into the mix. Whether it actually happens or not is anyone’s guess, but I wouldn’t put it past the weather to surprise us.

Now, I don’t mind a crisp winter run—cold air is invigorating, after all—but snow? That’s where I draw the line. My neighborhood is already an obstacle course of hills, one of which looms in front of my house like a miniature Everest. Running on it when it’s dry is a challenge. Running on it when it’s covered in snow? That’s not a workout; that’s an audition for an injury.

I learned this the hard way a few years ago. It was the day before Christmas, and my wife and I had grand plans to deliver small gifts to our neighbors. Simple enough, right? Wrong. The snow had turned the streets into a treacherous, ice-covered battleground. Every step felt like a high-stakes balancing act, and we spent more time trying not to wipe out than actually walking. Since that day, I have made a firm rule: running on snow is a terrible idea. The whole point of running is to stay healthy, not to end up in a cast.

That said, I’m not letting the cold stop me. I still plan to hit my weekly running target, snow or no snow (preferably no snow). Last summer was brutal—I struggled through one of the hottest seasons I can remember, dragging myself through heat so intense it felt like I was melting. But those struggles paid off. In November and December, I pushed hard to hit my year-end distance goal, and in the process, I did something unexpected—I got faster.

Now, every time I run, I shave a little more off my pace. I’m within five seconds per kilometer of my end-of-year target, and that progress fuels me. My wife is impressed whenever I show her my running logs, and honestly, that extra bit of admiration is a great motivator. It’s always nice to have a cheering section, even if it’s just one person.

Of course, I know not every run will be great. Some days will be slow, some will be frustrating, and some will make me question why I do this to myself at all. But I’ve learned that bad days are just that—days. They don’t define the journey. The key is to keep moving, keep improving, and not expect progress to happen overnight.

So, I’ll keep running. I’ll keep chasing my goals. But if the snow does show up tomorrow? Well, I’ll be watching it from inside with a hot drink in hand.

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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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The Weekend Latte Ritual: A Brewed Philosophy

Written February 2, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Ah, the weekend—those glorious two days where time slows just enough to remind us that life isn’t only about deadlines and checklists. My wife and I have stumbled upon a new weekend tradition, one that involves the alchemy of caffeine and a dash of self-appreciation.

It all started with a simple upgrade: coffee. Not just any coffee, but the kind that demands a moment of respect before the first sip—the kind that makes you pause and acknowledge, Yes, I deserve this. We don’t go to fancy cafés or wait in long lines for baristas to scribble our names incorrectly on cups. No, we craft our own indulgence right at home.

Then Christmas came along, and with it, my sister’s perfectly chosen gift: a milk frother and flavored syrups. This was a game-changer. Suddenly, Sunday became latte day. Not just any latte, but the latte, handcrafted with a level of precision that would make a chemist proud.

Now, my wife is a purist when it comes to coffee—black, untainted, unsweetened. But once a week, she lets me transform her cup into something velvety and rich. The catch? The syrup. Following the package instructions led to a disaster of sugar overload. So, after a few misfires (and my wife’s polite but unimpressed expressions), I cracked the code: just enough syrup to balance indulgence without betrayal. A sweet spot, if you will.

And somehow, this tiny ritual makes me reflect—not just on coffee ratios but on life itself. Every Sunday latte is a quiet nod to the week we’ve survived, the goals we’ve chased, and the fact that we’re still here, sipping and smiling.

Yesterday, I completed my 10K run. Did I hit my target pace? Not quite. Did I still run 10K? Absolutely. And that counts for something.

So, we sip our lattes, acknowledging the week’s efforts, big or small. It’s a self-made celebration, a pat on the back in a ceramic cup. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that appreciating yourself isn’t just nice—it’s necessary.

And what better way to do it than with a perfectly brewed latte?

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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.

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Back on the Run: Making Peace with Snow, Chill, and My New Plan

Written January 13, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Finally, the sun decided to make an appearance, peeking out from its hiding spot behind the clouds! Yesterday’s snow melt was just enough to liberate the outdoors from its icy grip, and that means one thing—I’m back in action. The air still has that classic winter edge, but I’m more than ready to hit the pavement and reclaim my running routine.

This impromptu “rest period” brought on by cloudy skies and subzero vibes wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. Sure, rest days are important, but let’s be honest—this one wasn’t by choice. However, in my downtime, I did some thinking (and a bit of stewing) about how to make up for lost time and, ideally, how to avoid falling behind again. That’s when my new running policy took shape.

Here’s the plan: Over the next couple of weeks, I’ll focus on both speed and mileage. If I manage to beat my target pace during the first half of a run, I’ll reward myself by stopping after 5K. But if I miss the mark? It’s a second 5K for me. No excuses, no shortcuts. It’s a win-win: either I improve my speed, or I make up for the distance I’ve missed. Motivation, thy name is accountability!

Now, let’s talk about Midwest winters. Being from Indiana, I’m no stranger to snow. A few flakes? Not a big deal. But this cold snap feels a bit personal—like winter heard me planning my runs and decided to crank up the Arctic settings just to spite me. And, of course, everyone’s favorite weather topic comes up: climate change. Some experts are saying the unusually warm ocean temperatures are throwing weather patterns into chaos. Am I ready to blame the oceans for my frosty morning runs? Not quite. But it does make me wonder if my running routine will need a seasonal overhaul in the future.

Regardless of what’s happening with the planet’s thermostat, I’m sticking to what I can control: running smarter and gradually increasing my pace. If all goes well, I’ll be crushing my target pace so often that extra 10Ks become a rare punishment, not the norm. That’s the dream, anyway.

Until then, I’ll bundle up, hit the road, and keep pushing forward—even if the weather is unpredictable. My goals are crystal clear. Running is as much about mental endurance as it is about physical stamina, and this new plan is all about building both.

So, here’s to embracing the chill, setting ambitious goals, and turning unwanted rest days into opportunities to recalibrate. If nothing else, winter is proving to be a relentless teacher. But hey, if I can conquer icy mornings and double-run challenges, maybe the spring sunshine will feel that much sweeter when it finally sticks around. For now, though, it’s just me, my running shoes, and a lot of determination.

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From Stumbling Steps to Sore Legs: My 10K Running Journey

Written Jan 05, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

This year, I made a bold proclamation: I’d conquer the 10K run more frequently than last year. Lofty, isn’t it? Well, it sounded heroic at the time. My main goal? Shave some seconds off my pace and make my running app sing my praises.

Let me set the scene: halfway through today’s 10K, I realized I’d missed my target pace by just a few seconds. Naturally, I did what any mildly obsessive runner would do—I pushed myself like I was being chased by a very determined turtle. The result? I barely hit my goal pace, but hey, “barely” still counts!

Looking back, it’s wild to think how far I’ve come. When I first started running seriously about 7-8 years ago, just finishing a few kilometers felt like scaling Everest. Rewind even further, and you’ll find me relearning how to walk after a brain stroke. Fun fact: my brain remembered that walking was a thing, but it forgot how to send the memo to my legs. The first time I told my wife I wanted to try running, she probably imagined me face-planting spectacularly. Spoiler: she wasn’t entirely wrong—I did fall a few times. But bruises fade, and determination grows.

Fast-forward to 2018, when we moved into our current home. I was still a slowpoke. A 5-kilometer run felt like a marathon, but over time, it stopped feeling like torture. Then came the glorious leap to 10 kilometers. Now, here I am—trying to outrun my past self, armed with sheer grit and slightly sore legs.

Speaking of sore legs, they’re the price of today’s achievement. My reward? I felt general weariness and the smug satisfaction of knowing this was my second-fastest 10K on record. Not bad for someone who started by jogging a single kilometer like a wobbly giraffe.

My endgame this year is to smash that 9:00 min/kilometer barrier. Today’s effort brought me closer, but it also left me with legs that felt like overcooked noodles. Stretching to the rescue! My daily leg stretches after a plank session is now less a routine and more a survival strategy.

So, here’s to run faster, recover smarter, and celebrate every hard-earned second because every step—whether wobbly or swift—proves that I’m still moving forward.

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Brrr! Running Through Nashville’s Cold Snap

Written January 8, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Nashville has been freezing lately—like, “Did I accidentally teleport to Canada?” kind of cold. This winter feels like nature’s weird experiment with snowflakes and icy air. Honestly, the weather here has been so temperamental it could have its own reality show. And running in this cold? Let’s just say it’s not the exhilarating outdoor adventure Instagram makes it look like.

My body and cold weather have a complicated relationship, thanks in part to a brain stroke I had over a decade ago. Temperature regulation isn’t exactly my strong suit, so the chill seems to hit me harder. Even when I’m bundled up, I feel like the cold air finds its way in, leaving me shivering while my clothes scream, “We’re doing our best here!”

But hey, a goal’s a goal. I set out to stick to my running plan this year and wasn’t about to let a little subzero situation stop me. Monday’s frigid temperatures had already robbed me of a decent run, and I wasn’t letting the same thing happen again. So, out I went, braving what felt like Mother Nature’s ice bucket challenge.

Last year, my wife—bless her Canadian soul—got me this fantastic hood to keep my ears and neck warm. It’s been a game-changer in keeping frostbite at bay, but unfortunately, it’s not a full-body solution. My thermal pants, the ones that used to make me feel invincible in the cold, have seen better days. I’ve downgraded to lighter gear, which works most days in Nashville’s relatively mild winters. After all, it’s nothing compared to the frozen tundra my wife grew up in Canada. (Seriously, how do Canadians survive that?)

I started with a lofty idea: make up for lost mileage by running a 10k. Ambitious, right? But after about an hour of running in below-freezing temperatures, my toes started staging a rebellion, and my resolve melted faster than an ice cube in hot cocoa. I settled for 5 kilometers, which, let’s be honest, still felt like a victory in those conditions.

Now, I’m pinning my hopes on Friday. The forecast promises slightly warmer temperatures, but of course, there’s a catch—snow might make an appearance. So, my dreams of a longer run might have to wait. If it’s another day like today, I’ll probably clock another 5k and call it a win. After all, progress is progress, even if it’s wrapped in a few layers of thermal gear and powered by sheer stubbornness.

In the end, I’m just trying to stay moving and keep my goals alive, one frosty step at a time. Because, let’s face it, nothing feels quite as satisfying as a hot cup of coffee after a run in the cold—and that’s a reward worth running for.

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Wrapping Up 2024: A Run, A Goal, and A Leafy Finale

Written December 30, 2024

Hello Dear Readers,

This morning, I laced up my sneakers for one last hurrah on the running trail in 2024. And let me tell you. It felt great to end the year on a high note—target pace time has officially been beaten! I managed to get back under the 10:00min/k mark, a line I’d been tiptoeing over during my recent two-week stint of 10ks. (Those long runs are no joke, folks!) It’s a small win, but hey, victories are meant to be celebrated—especially when you’re outside in the crisp winter air, battling not just your legs but occasionally your frozen lungs.

With 2024 in the books, it’s time to look ahead. Starting Wednesday, I’ll be chasing a new goal: bringing my pace down to sub-9:00min/k by the end of 2025. Is it ambitious? Absolutely. Am I sure I can nail it in a year? Not entirely. But if there’s one thing running teaches you, it’s that progress doesn’t happen all at once—it’s earned with every step, every mile, every sometimes-dreaded morning when you’d rather stay in bed. So, I’ll keep showing up, logging the kilometers, and chipping away at that time. Who knows where I’ll be by this time next year?

Now, back to reality. Post-run, as I stood in my driveway doing that awkward shuffle-stretch routine, I noticed something: the trees in our front yard had finally given up their leafy ghosts. The ground? A glorious mess of reds, yellows, and browns. It looks like tomorrow’s agenda will include one last leaf collection session. (Yes, I’m pretending this will actually be the last one. Please let the trees cooperate this time.) On the bright side, the bare branches mean winter is truly here, and hey, that’s one less thing to distract me from hitting the trail.

So here’s to 2024—its wins, its challenges, and even its messy leaf piles. And here’s to 2025, where the goals are bigger, the runs are faster (hopefully), and the trees are… well, someone else’s problem until fall rolls around again. Happy New Year!