Lessons Learned from Winter Running

Note: I started this post on December 29 and then I went away and enjoyed my holidays, so it’s still coming to you, but it’s coming late … sorry! (well, not really sorry for enjoying my holidays, but a bit sorry)

This is Ottawa today:

I knew this was coming last night so I figured if I was going to run today, it needed to be early, before most of the 35cms we’re expecting fell.

I got up at 7:00 (we’re on holidays here, so 7:00 felt early – and in fact it was still dark) and I ran.

This is what my street looked like:

This was actually taken after my run – so 8:00 a.m. – and it was so dark the streetlights were still on …

No surprise, I couldn’t follow my usual route. I started out trying, but there was already about 15 – 20 cm on the ground and it was deep.

So, I ducked down to a busier street – or what would normally be a busier street if it wasn’t still dark, and most people weren’t still on holidays, and the police weren’t asking people not to drive – and it had been plowed so that there was only 5cm or so on the surface and I ran to the end of that road and back.

Here are some things I thought about while I ran:

1) Sometimes the thing that kills you is not the thing you think will kill you. I thought it would be the deep, deep, snow making every step the equivalent of two or three regular steps. It wasn’t. It was the lashing, driving, whipping icy pellets being pelted into my face the whole way out. Ow!

2) It’s good to do the hard stuff first. As much as I hated those ice pellets on the outward run, I knew the wind would be behind me on the way back and I wouldn’t even feel them. True. Within a couple of seconds of turning around, I had forgotten all about the sting of them hitting my cheeks and eyes.

3) You might not want to follow in somebody else’s footsteps. As much as compacted lines of tire tracks look attractive when you’re struggling through deep snow, they can actually be much harder to run in. That packed down snow can be tricky and treacherous – it can slide out from under you when you least expect it to.

4) Then again, sometimes the well-worn trail is the best one. Sometimes those tire tracks really are the best place to run and following the path somebody else has worn ahead of you, is the best way to go.

5) And, sometimes, you have to do something completely different. About halfway home, I lurched off the street I’d been running on, onto a recreational pathway which hadn’t been recently plowed, but even though I wouldn’t have guessed it, the conditions were much, much better there.

6) The only way to find out is to try. You have to take a few steps in each kind of footing to see which one works best. Observing from a distance, or guessing doesn’t cut it.

7) Making an effort is worth it. Even if it wasn’t a blistering long run on bare pavement, with my legs stretching and lungs pumping, it was a run. It strengthened my muscles, it took away my stress, it set my day up right, and it gave me a sense of accomplishment. It was worth it.

None of this is earth-shattering, but I think these are things worth thinking as we work our way into the New Year.

Most of the above points can be equally applied to my writing – especially since I went indie. I’ve had to try new things. I’ve sometimes followed others’ paths – sometimes successfully, sometimes not. I re-think my approach all the time. I adapt, I change. I learn something from everything I try. Some things I’ll do again, and some I won’t. Some days it’s fun, fast, and easy; some days it’s a hard slog through blowing snow and freezing temperatures.

But it’s all worth it and I’m not stopping.

I’m not stopping.

Maybe that’s my slogan for 2016 … not stopping …

What’s yours?