Step into the freezer

Because I selected a March race for my first post-injury marathon, I have had to train through the winter. December was not bad. Temperatures were routinely in the 40s for my training runs (not to mention my week in Florida where I ran in 70+ sunshine).

Even as January began and the training ramped up (using Hal Higdon's most difficult program - Adavnced 2 - because I am a glutton for punishment), not a lot of weather related obstacles were thrown my way. I ran a simulated half-marathon time trial on Jan. 2. It was chilly but sunny and, despite the big hills on my course, I ran a time with which I would have been happy were it a real race.

Then came the blizzard on Jan. 16. Thankfully, I had already run my first 20-miler the previous week, so I only had to do 13. And, yes, I did do all 13, in the thick of the storm; wind and snow blowing in my face as I trudged through snow-covered streets. When asked why I did not postpone the run, my answer was the usual - I stick to the schedule and train in everything so I can race in anything, whether a long run in two feet of snow, speed work on snowy paths and tracks, or hill sprints on icy streets.

But even those were no match for that 15-degree Saturday, with arctic winds whipping at 25 to 35 mph, in which I ran my first ever 22-mile training run.

I might have been slightly under-dressed with my compression shirt topped with a technical polyester shirt and my tights. For the first few miles, even as my chest, arms and legs warmed up, my fingers were freezing my lightweight but usually effective gloves until about the sixth mile. Even my toes were frigid until the third mile.

As I ran south from Little Falls through Cedar Grove, into Verona and West Orange via Mount Prospect Avenue (and climbing some sizeable hills), I never felt comfortable, but I always felt able. At the halfway point, along South Mountain Reservation, I felt strong and accomplished, even as the wind picked up and blew some cold gusts at me.

Returning along Pleasant Valley Way, I could feel myself getting into those mid-teen mileage doldrums, yet even then, I never once dipped below a 7:55 pace as I had on my previous long runs. Even better, in the 17th mile, as I approached a group of bundled up young ladies, they started cheering for me. Nothing beats encouragement from the fairer gender.

I finished the 22 in 2:49:48. That's a 7:40 pace. If that was a marathon, and I could hold on for another four miles, I would have come in under 3:25:00. On the coldest, windiest day of the year! And because it was so cold, I did not even break a sweat.

That is why I train in everything. If I could muster that result in those conditions, imagine what I can do on race day in South Carolina next week.