Let’s start with the harsh reality and end with the silver lining.

Running is hard. Running in winter is hard. But when are conditions ideal?, I ask myself as I pull on two hats and illuminate my light vest. If I only ran when it was 52 degrees Fahrenheit and sunny with no wind, I’d run about five days a year. Or I’d live in San Diego.

But I live on the eastern edge of the American Great Plains. It’s always windy. Snow is mighty when it shows up. And the sun sets before most people get off work several months a year. Yeah, winter makes running a challenge.

So do I get out the door today? Let’s make a con/pro list, bad news first.

Winter running cons

It’s dark.

Facing complete dark at 4:45 p.m., it seems like the long, late sunsets of summer happened on another planet. Each day is squeezed from either end, compressing time that already seemed

Getting out for a run first thing means complete dark for a full hour. Running after work adds an urgency that leaves me breathless (not to mention a lot of traffic.)

I can often run on my lunch hour, when the noon sun makes me clear to drivers and pours some much-needed vitamin D onto my face. But if that doesn’t work, it’s time for my Noxgear light vest. And maybe the head lamp – it takes just one root to wipe out running for the rest of the winter.

Batteries are a big deal around here in winter.

It’s cold.

“Are you going to run in this?”

It was my neighbor, yelling to me as we crossed paths the day before temperatures took a nose dive into the single digits two weeks ago.

“Are you going to WALK in this?” I yelled back. I knew he was going to – George walks seven miles a day, no matter what. A streak he’s on. And he never wears gloves. That, to me, sounds crazy.

Zero degrees F with a wind chill?

Definitely a reason to stay inside.

There are obstacles

The only way out of my neighborhood? Blocked by snow.

The roads in my neighborhood? Ice.

My usual route to Parkrun*? Nearly impassable thanks to two miles of unplowed sidewalks along W—— Road, which I shall not name because I am out-of-proportion pissed off at local snow removal (non)priorities.

Oh, and the headwind out Race Street.

Leaving the house for a run in winter means strong chance of obstacles, foreseen and out of the blue.

So do I give up running from December to March?

I do not. Because…

Winter running pros

It’s dark.

So once I do get my headlamp charges and my light vest on, it’s kind of a superpower. It feels like I’m flying and invisible both at the same time. In December, it’s holiday light time, planning routes to catch the best displays (around here, check out Vine Street between Holmes St. and Colorado St. It’s crazy.) The as the holiday lights wink out, the magic lies in witnessing the light lasting a little bit longer every day. Plus some glorious sunsets.

It’s cold.

That day the temperature plunged below 10 degrees (where it’s stayed since), I yelled to George, “Sure, I’ll run in this.” And the next day, I was out there. Two hats, layered mittens, three tops. One pair of leggings (my legs don’t get that cold.)

Lots of turns so I’m never facing the wind very long. Cut the run short if I need to. There are strategies.

Once I do get out and moving and my toes regain feeling, I’m rewarded with that magical state where I’m outside in the deep cold and not uncomfortable. Warm, even. A warmth that sticks with me for the rest of the day.

There are obstacles.

Wobbling over three blocks of unshoveled sidewalk is a pain in the butt, but it’s kind of invigorating. And builds some new ankle muscles, I’m sure.

Icy neighborhood roads give me a legit excuse to skip or postpone speed work once in a while.

Snow, schmow. Get some frost in the socks and check out the snowmen and forts built by kids in the park.  

And getting back in from a run twice as long as I thought I was going to get in because I either did the one tiny cleared loop I could find several times or because the roads weren’t nearly as bad as I thought they’d be or the sun came out gives me an additional glow of accomplishment.

The headwind out Race Street is a tailwind back.

I’m not contradicting myself. I’m not blowing weak midwinter sunshine up anywhere. I’m serious when I say that the very things that make winter running a bear also make it a romp. And a good way to stretch myself during a time of year when I am tempted to crawl – body, mind and spirit – under a blanket (i.e. give in to depression) and stay there until conditions are ideal (i.e. never).

I learned this month that releasing lab mice outdoors changes their behavior and reverses anxieties. There aren’t clear links to human behavior, but I can see the principle in myself.  Cold, dark, uncertain: not knowing what I’m going to face, but doing it anyway shakes me up in just the right way when my life gets compressed, it seems, into the eat, sleep, work repeat slog of the cold months.

On this note, I may as well do a post on Cons and Pros of SUMMER running because all things considered, it can be just as bad or worse.

Unless you live in San Diego. If you do live in San Diego and have read this far, message me and I’ll send you a sticker.

*Please, please, please do not run or walk outdoors after dark without illuminating yourself well. I can tell you horror stories.

**a free timed 5k every Saturday morning at 9 a.m. at over 2,500 locations worldwide!)

This post is NOT sponsored by Noxgear or Parkrun, but maybe you can tell I love both.