Tag: running pace improvement

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Goodbye Heat Wave: A Cool Morning in Nashville and the Surprising Perks of Weather Whiplash

Written August 1, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

This morning brought an unexpected guest: the end of our latest heat wave. Not the “it’s a bit warm” kind, but the sort of swelter that makes you feel like a rotisserie chicken—no matter how much water you drink. Even ceiling fans just serve hot air on a platter. Eventually, we caved and turned on the air conditioning, though we kept ours set to a toasty 86°F. It still felt like sweet relief.

Then, almost overnight, the temperature took a nosedive—nearly 20 degrees cooler than it’s been in weeks. By April standards, today’s mid-to-high 70s would have felt warm and cheery. But after roasting for days, we both found ourselves… cold. This morning, I actually burrowed under my beloved weighted blanket for the first time in weeks. I even woke up chilly—something I’d forgotten was possible in August.

By the time I shuffled into the kitchen, my wife had already finished her morning run and moved on to the rest of her routine. She greeted me with a warning: “It’s chilly out there.” She knows my body takes longer to adjust to sudden shifts in weather—whereas hers seems to have a built-in thermostat that switches seamlessly between sauna and sweater mode.

Oddly enough, our bodies handle the Nashville heat better than artificially chilled air. We only switch on the AC when temperatures become truly unbearable, so our summer adaptation is strong. If you’re used to living in an artificially cooled 72°F bubble, 80°F still feels stifling. But for us, today’s drop in temperature was downright comfortable.

The forecast promises friendlier weather for at least the next two weeks. Between bouts of heat and heavy rain, our yard has turned into a stubbornly green (and occasionally weedy) project zone. My wife, ever the vigilant groundskeeper, is determined to put in some weekend yard work. The weeds may be relentless, but thanks to her efforts, our yard never tips into chaos.

The strange part? The intense heat has confused our trees. Some of them, clearly convinced autumn has arrived, have started dropping leaves. Now the front yard looks like a confused mix of July and October. My wife says she’ll be vacuuming them up this weekend—because in our household, even the seasons are not excused from tidiness.

And so, another month of summer is behind us. Just one or two more to go. I thought today’s cooler air might give me an edge in my morning run, but while I did beat last week’s average pace, my target speed remained elusive. Apparently, it takes time to turn heat-seasoned endurance into cool-weather speed. Patience, I suppose—after all, I’ve had enough heat training to prepare me for the surface of the sun.

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Running on Cool Air and Accidental Kilometers

Written June 9, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

Yesterday was a scorcher—the kind of heat that makes you question your life choices, your wardrobe, and maybe your decision to live on Earth. We sweated through it with as much dignity as possible (read: none), but thankfully the heat retreated overnight. This morning, my wife emerged from her walk announcing it was “chilly.” I was still burrowed under blankets like a hibernating bear, and I had to agree—comfortably so.

We’ve developed a quirky philosophy around indoor climate control. Our goal? Keep the indoor temperature close enough to the outdoor one that our bodies don’t go into seasonal whiplash. Yes, we have central AC. Yes, it technically still works. But it’s old enough to remember dial-up internet, so we try not to lean on it unless the weather turns dramatic—which, living in Nashville, it frequently does.

And here’s the twist: after my brain stroke, my internal thermostat retired early. I can no longer regulate body temperature like a normal human radiator. Fortunately, we’ve always preferred a “seasonally appropriate” indoor vibe. No saunas in winter or ice caves in July. But when Nashville cranks the weather dial to “chaos,” even our stoic system has to bend. That’s when the AC gets its rare moment of glory.

Now, about today’s run—by the time I laced up and hit the pavement, it wasn’t chilly anymore, but it was that perfect middle ground: warm enough to get the blood flowing, cool enough to pretend I was in a Nike ad. I felt good. Too good, maybe. So good, in fact, I forgot to check my distance and accidentally ran an extra kilometer.

The wild part? I still hit my target pace. I know. Who is this person?

Back when I first started running, one kilometer felt like trekking across the Sahara. In 2017, I managed just over a mile, and it nearly took my soul with it. Then came the real game changer: proper shoes. My wife gifted me a glorious pair of Nikes—shoes that whispered, “You got this,” with every step.

Consistency, not magic, built my endurance. Last year, I got curious about pace. Sometimes I plateau, sure. There are weeks where progress is flatter than a pancake in Kansas. But in the long haul, I’ve improved.

And today? I ran farther than I planned, faster than I expected, and finished with enough breath left to write this blog.

Not bad for a guy with a malfunctioning thermostat.