Head Out: Winter running takes determination -- and sound judgment

[ With Melissa DeVaughn ]

Published: October 15th, 2008 10:01 PM
Last Modified: October 16th, 2008 04:55 AM

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Bright blue sky collided with the new snowfall this week to make a run along the roads near my house breathtakingly beautiful and scarily dangerous. While jogging along the edge of the road, I wanted to look up at Bear Mountain and take in its grandness against the sunny backdrop. I wanted to appreciate the way the snow settled into the branches of the spruce trees, making them softer and rounder.

But, darn it, I had to concentrate on every step to avoid slipping off the road or twisting my ankle in a hidden hole.

I kicked myself for having missed Skinny Raven's big fall sale, thinking I didn't really need any new gear. But studded running shoes would have come in handy at the moment.

Despite its challenges, running in the snow is quite exhilarating. While dodging slick spots and avoiding hidden obstacles, I decided I may just survive winter after all. I've been here long enough to be realistic about our winters -- and about running in them. I know when to push the limit, and I know when to stick to the treadmill. I know when it will be enjoyable and when it's going to be miserable.

My first winter here, nearly 14 years ago while living on the Kenai Peninsula, I was not that smart.

I had just met my husband-to-be, and during our budding friendship, I told him how much I enjoyed running. Funny, he enjoyed running too.

So, being the competitive one from the sunny South, I challenged him, the lifelong, laid-back Alaskan, to a contest: Who could run the most during the unseasonably cold, mostly below-zero month of January?

He had no choice but to accept.

The winner had to cook the other a fancy dinner.

Determined to win, I ran every day, despite the conditions. When it was blowing snow sideways, I ran (in shoes I'd brought from Virginia meant for summer running, no less). When I worked late and it was dark, I ran. When the mercury dropped to 20-below, which happened most days during that unseasonably cold winter, I ran.

Often I'd return home with my eyelids covered in ice and my face framed in frost. My entire being would throb from an ice cream headache that started on the outside and drove deep into my brain.

But I ran.

And I won.

Andy was a great sport about losing, and, as promised, he made me dinner: halibut he grilled outside on a zero- degree night. Something about the meal didn't settle well and I ended up throwing up all night, eliminating the romantic possibilities of the evening.

Still, I had won. Years later, the story is funny, and we joke how the unintentional food poisoning was Mother Nature mocking my stupidity of running in frostbite-inducing weather.

So I'm smarter now, enjoying winter running while I can but turning to the lifelong Alaskan in my life on those really cold days when I want the smartest advice.

Got a Fresh Air tip or inside info on the local recreation scene? Send an e-mail to play@adn.com.

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