Taking the chill off a -37C run

By Pete Estabrooks

Pete Estabrooks sheds the gear that helps
keeps the cold at bay.

It was -37C in Calgary recently, a temperature the weatherman said was second only to Antarctica, I had an hour and twenty minutes to kill. I ran.

There is an epic calm running in temperatures cold enough to crack engine blocks and drive sane men and women indoors in search of bone warming liquor. It is an adventure parts delirious and mysterious all at once.

Not a runner’s high, if there is such a thing. It is the beauty of creating your own solitary environment akin to scuba diving; cocooned, swaddled in clothing and enveloped by the sounds of primordial breathing reminiscent of Darth Vader’s raspy wheeze, your heart rate and the wind whistling past double covered ears.

At -30C and colder you are on your own even if you run with someone, it’s like moon-walking with a buddy would be, all nods and hand signals. If one of you slipped, fell or turned off, the other would not notice for an hour or so; you are on your own. Alone (and prepared) is not a bad thing, once you get over the initial shock, when the first sheen of sweat breaks out close to your body and as you adjust to the hard uneven ground underfoot you find a rhythm and it’s good. It takes a little time to find your comfort zone in the seven pounds of clothing that separate you from relative comfort and a roll-out slab at the morgue, but correctly geared, this is so doable and so worth it.

Preparation is key. It all starts at the underwear with the built in wind panel that protects all that is sacred. There is no man who has run in the mega-cold who has not at one point been at the side of the road unabashedly cradling his genitals, promising his deity of choice anything, anything at all, pleading please don’t let it fall off.

Once that is covered there are wool socks, hot shots for the fingers and toes (larger shoes are necessary in winter) two pairs of long tights, a sleeveless wicking layer, two thick long-sleeved wicking layers a wind-breaker, a hat covered with an ear-band and mitts (not gloves, the finger anthem is “united we’re warm divided we freeze.”)

Don’t mess around, if you are going to spend more than 15 minutes at sub-sub zero a breathable facemask and ski goggles are the pieces that complete this airtight ensemble. With foresight, running wild and cold is a beautiful place of peace and there is a sense of connectedness to this marvelous part of the planet we inhabit and a sense of belonging when you hold your ground with Mother Nature and share her sense of humour as she smirks at the mere mortals around us.

Hey, I am not advocating running sub-Arctic all the time, just now and Zen.

Pete Estabrooks is IMPACT Magazine’s Fitness Editor.

Photo by Susan To

January/February 2011 Issue