Surviving Running in a Minnesota Winter

This was my first winter living in Minnesota since I've moved back from NJ. I lived in MN for 12 years before I moved to the East Coast, and remember all to well the frigid icy cold that lasts from late October to well into April, so I was at least aware of the frozen tundra. Though by comparison to Wisconsin, North Dakota and Alaska winters, a Twin Cities winter is not too bad. I've also never trained through a winter at all, so this would be another first for me. I usually hit March about 10-15 pounds heavier, and it takes 1-2 months of reluctant exercise to get me back to an enjoyable state of fitness.

All but one of the running partners I had abandoned running outside during a MN winter and opted for the luxury of a safe, warm gym with track or treadmill. But given my limited finances, and the fact that I hate treadmills (read: I've been on them less than 5 times in my life), I decided to give it a serious try.

Gear. I'd done some intense winter camping as a Boy Scout, and some casual downhill skiing, but never a sport so streamlined that I would be concerned with being both warm and light. So my first task was to figure out equipment and clothing. I had just switched to Vibram Five Fingers, and was having success with my feet and tendons running in these, so I decided to stick with the VFF throughout the winter. I added a pair of thick injinji socks to give some warmth, and settled on some compression pants, and 3-4 core layers (including both long-sleeve and short-sleeve compression shirts), depending on how cold it was. I usually just monitored the temp, not wind chill, though there were a few grueling runs where not figuring in the wind chill really took its toll on me. I oscillated between gloves that could work an iPhone and the warmer, thick wool gloves that I could warm up by breathing into. Gear and clothing were really a work in progress, as my body adapted to what I perceived as 'cold', and as I realized how much I would really heat up to after a few miles of running.

Windswept MN pretty close to sunset

There were some key runs that taught me some great lessons the hard way - here are some highlights:

My first run on icy roads was a 10 miler. At this point I'd been running on snow on and off, but ice (hidden and in-your-way slippery) presented a new challenge. I had learned that I had to run with a very center-of-the-foot landing to avoid being off balance on snow, but I was still often trying to run too fast. This first run left me on my keister twice, and a third near-fall strained my achilles tendon so bad it took two weeks for a full recovery. Lesson: run with short strides, and a completely neutral mid-foot landing.

I did a few double-run days in January: a 2 hour soccer game indoors followed by a long run. The first one of these was a 14 mile run. I was not at all prepared for how my quads would feel after 2 hours of sprinting around in all directions, and my first thought was "hello quads, I think you're almost shot." But it got worse - around the end of mile 1 I realized how intense the wind chill was. Gusts that literally caused me to have trouble breathing, and a 3 mile section where I had to run with my eyes mostly closed due to road sand being blown around. The wind just tore right through me - after 8 miles, I was frozen, my body was saying no, and I was very far from home. It was probably one of the lowest points I had ever been at in terms of mental and physical pain, and the tears and prayers came streaming out. What brought me out of it was realizing who I am by shouting some affirmations - "I am Craig Woodward! I am persistent! I am a Woodward!" My great-great grandfather crossed the plains on foot 6 times as a Mormon pioneer, so its in my genes to persevere.  Fortunately I had brought some dates and a Morter energy drink called AlkaBoost, and this gave me some needed calories and sugar to keep moving forward. I learned something about myself this day, and it has served me as I move forward to longer runs. And the next weekend I went out and did it again, only longer.

This winter brought about many small injuries - in addition to the achilles strain, I twisted my knee, dealt with tight ITB's and runner's knee in both legs, bruised my foot on ice, had minor frostbite on my ankles, and sometimes came in with numb toes. I blew out my quads, calves, hamstrings and glutes, and I ran until my water froze and I had icicles on my eyelids. But with each challenge that arose I found a solution, be it a new stretch to try or implementing a new training idea or nutrition plan. And I finished my first running winter feeling proud of my accomplishment, and quite a bit tougher for my efforts. Now that temperatures have hit the 70s, I kinda miss those quiet winter runs, where the solitude was palpable, the highs and lows exquisite and the after effect of having gone up against Mother Nature left a longing for more. Now having got my feet wet (and then frozen), I am aware that in the distance a few extremely daunting races taunt me: Minnesota's Arrowhead 135, Wisconsin's Tuscobia, and the great Alaskan Iditarod. I am still new to running, and have yet to pop my ultra cherry, but one thing I have learned: that there is no bad experience, each one holds a lesson, and the more I learn and train, the stronger I get.