Winter Runs

What winter running taught me about life's cycles (Keep Hammering).

Pre-run procrastination

From the warm glow of my kitchen, it looks cold and grey outside.

My iPhone’s weather app confirms it’s in the minuses. I make another coffee for courage. I’m really just procrastinating. My mind starts to walk through the process. Getting dressed, stepping into the cold, seeing my breath, and the miserable first few minutes. I instantly shut it off. If I keep thinking I’ll have talked myself out of a run.

Keeping the process simple — go outside and run — makes the task at hand manageable.

Coffee down and minimal courage gained, I put on my blood-red compression shorts, the black Under Armour logo chipped away leaving only an outline where it once was in a faint red. I slip into my tattered black Nike running shorts. The groin fraying and fading into dark grey from millions of strides on the asphalt and the rubbing of my forearms from three years of kettlebell swings.

Over my Spartan Race Finisher 2018 t-shirt, I pull on my forest green hoodie, tightly tying the strings into an even bow so they won’t bounce off my chest and into my face as I run. Pushing my hair back, I squarely secure my sweat-stained sun-faded ball cap.

Balancing on one leg, I pull my sock high, bend over to pick up my shoe, still balancing, and tie it tight. Other side. Standing in the foyer, I swing my legs and arms, rotate my ankles, and thrust open the front door as the cool air envelopes me.

No more piping hot coffee, cozy sweaters, and relaxed reading.

It’s time to run.

KM 1

Hitting “Start” on Strava, I push my phone into my running belt as I jump over a patch of ice and begin to jog. I dig out thinly knit gloves that double as my handkerchief from the pouch of my sweater.

My lungs fill with cold as my heart fills with anger.

In those initial minutes, I hate running. I hate that Canada gets this cold. I hate that I force myself to do this. My head floods with past failures and everything I don’t like about myself. My mind is searching for fuel. And its preferred source of it right now is darkness.

A pesky voice called Resistance flashes its toothy grin.

He always wants the easy way out and never fails to fire off sound arguments as to why I should turn back to the warmth of home. But I’m familiar with Resistance. I know his games and I will not succumb.

I run faster.

Away from the negative thoughts.

And towards the warmth my body will give me in kilometre two.

KM 2

With a seemingly endless supply of watery mucus, my nose hasn’t stopped running and won’t until I’m done. My lips shut tight, I only breathe through my nose on zone two workouts which seems to make the situation worse.

Oh well. Good thing I have the gloves.

My face is numb and my quads feel like frozen shanks hanging in the butcher’s freezer but at least my torso is warming up.

My irrationally negative disposition is beginning to thaw and be replaced by my usual optimistic self. 

KM 3-6

The cold has started to comfort me. I feel good.

After practically sprinting the first two kilometres to heat up, I know I must manage my pace. Despite my effort to maintain a steady stride, I go through bursts of energy and speed followed by periods of slow doggedness. My pace for kilometres three and four is thirty seconds faster than five and six.

I’ve been here before. I know running exists in peaks and valleys. I just need to keep moving.

I peel off my gloves and shove them back into the pouch of my hoodie. My legs finally start to defrost as I continue to get strange glances from within the warm confines of cars. 

“Is that guy really running in shorts?”

KM 7

I can taste the end. With a sudden burst of energy, I run my final kilometre nearly forty seconds faster than the last. The street feels like a conveyor belt carrying me in.

Distance: 7.15 km

Time: 33:39 min

Pace: 4:42 min/km.

Post run walk

As my run fades into a walk, the cold is no longer cold.

The temperature hasn’t changed but I’m no longer trying to escape it. The hardest challenge I had to face today has been overcome. I’m on the triumphant side of the chasm. For today.

Stretching 

I jam out to Noah Kahan and bask in my hard-earned dopamine.

Ahh… it feels good to stretch. Even better to know I overcame challenge and discomfort.

Cold shower

There’s one more battle to be fought. The cold shower. I’ve made it this far, a little cold water is nothing. Or so I tell myself. 

The first few seconds are a shock. After that, I embrace the cold.

“I have to do this again tomorrow”

Then I have the realization that while I won today, I have to do this again tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. 

The battle must be fought anew every day.

I tell myself I get to do it tomorrow. Then remind myself to stay in the moment and make the most of today.

Keep Hammering

Life, like running, is cyclical.

Sometimes things are going great. You’re getting the bounces and life feels effortless. Then, on a dime, everything changes. You hit roadblocks, meet failure, and feel deflated. You want to crawl into bed and hide. Resistance is strong and starting the work again sounds like a Herculean task.

But no matter how good or bad it gets, the solution remains the same:

Keep Hammering. 

A challenging stretch of a run turns into your best kilometre ever if you keep going. You’re certain to hit a rough patch again where it will take doggedness to make it through, but if you Keep Hammering you’ll always return to the place where things are going your way.

In my own life, there’s no better example than writing.

I stared at my computer for three hours one morning last week trying to figure out what to write. I wanted to throw my computer against a wall. But whenever I hit a challenging stretch with writing, I make one promise to myself:

Keep Hammering.

I don’t need to produce the next classic novel or revolutionize anything but I do need to write something each week that I can share with you. I can’t expect myself to do my best work every day but if I Keep Hammering, I stay in the game. 

And staying in the game, being consistent, is the most important variable to long-term success. The most rewarding things in life — exercise, relationships, and meaningful work — are all long-term games. And those who win long-term games Keep Hammering through life’s endless cycles of ups and downs. 

Two years ago today, Longevity Minded had 4 posts and 39 subscribers.

A year ago, it had grown to 58 posts and 333 subscribers. 

By hammering away every day for over two years, even when I didn’t feel like it, I’ve published 150+ posts and grown the newsletter to 1,100+ subscribers. I’ve met amazing people, become a better writer, made a few bucks through paid memberships, and learned about myself and the world. 

I'd have learned and achieved nothing if I decided to quit because I was having a hard day. But by sticking with it through the ups and downs, the experience becomes richer every week. And I’ve built something I’m proud of.

Nothing is harder than being consistent but nothing is more rewarding.

And if you Keep Hammering, especially when you don’t feel like it, you will propel yourself to a place in a year’s time you could have never imagined today.

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Lots of love,

Jack