A Texas Runner. Finally.

I am a Texas runner. I proved it in this last, hottest summer on record.

I was a teenager in Colorado when I first laced up a pair of running shoes, a member of my high school cross country team. For years, that alone was proof of my toughness as a runner – I had run the sidewalks and streets of the Mile High City, the trails of the Rocky Mountains, earning my stripes in the thin air.

I ran through the icy winters of Upper Midwest, swathed in black Lycra tights and fleece tops, breathing through the mask of a balaclava and feeling ice droplets form on my eyelashes. My Yak Traks (essentially tire chains for running shoes) clawed at the snow ruts and slipped over the black ice while I dodged the pot holes and cracks in the asphalt of Michigan’s capital city.

That too, I thought, proved my toughness as a runner – my ability to endure the extreme cold, to get so overheated on 20 degree days, I would rip off my gloves and unzip my running jackets without ever missing a stride.

I knew when I moved here, the heat was going to be an obstacle.

The summer of 2009 was a hot one. I sweated and flushed through my days in the field, reporting, and many days returned to the station at the end of the day with pink cheeks and a heat headache. My photographers would drive, and I would look out of the passenger window at the runners circling Memorial Park or Rice University or cutting through Hermann Park and I would wonder how they did it without collapsing.

The couple of mid-day runs I attempted that summer were slow, short, sickening affairs. I ran a lot on the treadmill at the gym, or after the sun had gone down, striding quietly and surprisingly up on neighbors out walking the dog before they turned in for the night.

It got a little better in 2010. I started to resent too much air conditioning. I returned to the station at the end of a day reporting feeling no different than I had in the morning. I still avoided running outside when the heat index got above 95 or so.

2011 was the year that something changed.

I ran outside without flinching on days when the temperature was 102 and the heat index was easily 105. The running was hard and I’d be dripping with sweat, my face crimson with the effort when I got done with my 3 or 6 miles. I’d stop for water when I could and gave myself mental permission to walk if it just didn’t feel good.

I ran far more often than I walked. The sun didn’t bother me so much anymore, although any breeze was a blessing and I’d run headfirst into one if I found it.

And then the weather broke in the beginning of September – a few sweet days when the highs only got into the low 90s. That’s when I realized what it means to be a Texas runner – when 93 degrees is a nice-cool, easy run; when 105 degrees and blazingly sunny doesn’t keep me inside parked on the couch.

I imagine, though, that I’m going to be making good use of my tough-Michigan-winter running gear to get through Houston’s (comparatively) mild winter.

The trade-off is worth it. Chevron Houston Marathon 2012, here I come.

 

 

Comments

[Jenny Griffin]

We survived the summer! It's funny when you hear of races being cancelled due to a heat advisory of 80. That's a cool front for Texas runners! I'm looking forward to cooler temps for the BOA Chicago Marathon in 11 days!!!!!

[Marathon 10k]

Great stuff, some pics ?? Anyways, good luck to your next race next year. Looking forward always. Congratulations !