Dress for Success

Rule #6: Don't overdress for a run.

I've known about this rule for a long time, and usually heed its advice. During yesterday's long run, however, I realized that this rule could have multiple interpretations. You see, I had always heeded the rule as "Do not dress too warmly". What I learned yesterday is that this rule could also mean, "Do not wear too many articles of clothing." I may have even made fun of myself prior to the run by referencing this scene:

The reason for my many layers was simply that I overcompensated for the cold temperature. I had gone on a  short 30 minute run earlier in the week, when the temperature was 7 degrees. I wore lined running pants and 3 long-sleeved top layers. When I came back from the run, my fat was literally frozen. There is actually a term for this, according to my college roommate -- The Deep Fat Itch. Usually the Deep Fat Itch starts to occur the moment your frozen fat starts to thaw. You experience a sensation of discomfort that you think you can ease by scratching, but then you realize the discomfort is not on the surface, it's Deep. Deep in the Fat. It's the Deep Fat Itch.

The temperature yesterday morning was a bit warmer than earlier in the week, but only by 4 degrees. I would be running for nearly 3 hours, and even by that time, the temperature would still be 10 degrees colder than the freezing point. I decided to layer up. On my bottoms were 1 pair of spandex shorts, then 1 pair of running tights, then 1 pair of sweatpants. The running tights were a pair that were just slightly too tight, so I rarely wear them. I thought this was a perfect occasion to get some good use out of them, since they would be covered up by the sweatpants. The sweatpants are pants that I only wear around my house. I'm not a fashion queen by any means, but I do know not to leave the house in sweatpants. I continued with the theme of neglected clothing for my tops as well. My bottom layer was a shirt I bought years ago for snowboarding, which goes almost all the way down to my knees. Over that was a freebie race tech shirt that I never wear because it is also way too long. Over that I wore a fleece vest, then over that I wore a fleece running jacket. Because the two bottom shirts were so long, I tucked them in to the sweatpants. I also had crew socks that I wore over my running tights, a pair of gloves, and a hat. I may have felt like Ralphie, but I looked like Joey wearing all of Chandler's clothes:

The run starts, and it's cold, but not too cold. My face is shoved down into the zippered collar of my fleece vest, and I'm wearing sunglasses to shield my eyes and face from any wind. Really it's just my nose that is exposed to the cold, and it does not feel in danger of falling off. There was a bit of snow from the night before, just enough to make the sidewalks fairly slick. At first I thought I was running too carefully, but even when I moved to the cleared bike path on the road, I could feel that I just wasn't moving like normal. I felt like I had a large elastic band wrapped around both knees, making each step very difficult. I had a vague inkling that wearing 3 pair of pants was not the best idea I'd ever had. As we approached the first water stop, about 3.5 miles in, all I could think about was that we were supposed to run  11.5 more miles, and I just knew I wasn't capable of doing that. Since my body temperature was not too hot, I feared shedding any layers, as that might mean that I would get cold. Plus, the whole too-small-tights thing made it hard for me to just take off my outer layer and continue on. No one needs to see that.

My running partners up until this point were also plagued by their own issues. Jennie, who starred in last week's blog, and who I may start calling "Jennie from the Blog", was too cold. I half joked that if I just gave her some of my layers, we'd both be ok to continue on. Connie was having knee and ankle issues, which trumps the problem of wearing too many clothes. Luckily our injury prevention coach was at the water stop and noticed Connie's foibled gait before Connie could even ask her about it. It seemed to be unanimous that all 3 of us would not continue on. Connie got a ride back to the gym to continue for an hour on the elliptical, and Jennie and I decided we would run back. Jennie was convinced that we'd get to the gym and run the remainder of the 15 miles on the treadmill. I didn't like that idea, so then she decided to torture me by taking the 17-detour route back to the gym. As miserable as I was, I knew it was the best thing for me, so I begrudgingly gave her a high-five at every stop light and let her continue dragging my sorry ass through some undiscovered streets of Boston. In the end, we did 8.5 miles. Not quite the 15 we had planned, but still long enough to count for something.  

Another week down, another lesson learned, another reminder that we ALL have bad weeks. It's part of the process. As long as we get to the starting line healthy, that's the only race that matters.