While researching winter running, I came across a whimsical (and technically impressive) product. Sure, it pertains to my last post, but that’s not the real reason I wanted to write about it. The real reason? I’m a geek when it comes to running tech.

I wrote a few days ago about proper form when running on ice. The ICEBUG line of shoes render all of that inconsequential- that is, if you can get a pair.

These shoes, named after this lovable fellow, use BUGrip to provide exceptional traction on ice without discomfort on hard surfaces. They do this with pegs that retract on harder surfaces (like concrete) but stay out to grip softer ones (like ice or snow). And these pegs move independently from each other, so they really shine on uneven surfaces.

The downside is that ICEBUG shoes are pretty hard to find. The main producer is in Sweden (birthplace of Craft and that Dyson guy). There are US retailers, but not many- and they seem to be restricted to the REALLY cold states. I suppose a Pennsylvania winter doesn’t warrant Swedish-quality technology.

I could only find positive reviews of the ICEBUG shoes, and none too official. Here is an old but thorough example. If you live in the far north of the US (or anywhere in Europe) and you want to try something different in your winter running routine, these guys seem to be worth a shot.

Anyone running at this time of year will have ice on his mind; however I didn’t really start thinking about it until I watched my high school runners’ misadventures. Most slip around like the sidewalk is coated in marbles instead of frozen water. They don’t fall too often, but they end their runs extra sore and tired. A few have accomplished grand, but entirely unintentional, ballet moves for the rest of us; they usually end up on the injured bench.

Whilst trying to help my poor young runners, it only seems fair to share my tips with the wider running world. Certain changes in your form can help you run injury free (and much faster) across the ice. These may seem instinctual to you; if so, congratulations. My high schoolers have proven that to some, this form is a learned thing.

Some tips:

Keep your feet low: Don’t lift your feet as high as you normally do; this forces you to lean forward and raises the chances that you’ll end up eating snow.

Take short steps: If following the above tip makes you sweep your feet like brooms, don’t. Short, quick steps minimize your loss in speed- and keep you from falling on your butt.

Land on the midfoot: Landing on your toes or heel can allow you to slip before your foot makes solid contact with the ground. In short, do neither.

Don’t swing your arms too hard: Doing so twists the opposite foot. This normally isn’t a problem, but on ice it can do anything from leaving the ankle a little extra sore to spilling you on the ground.

Hope these are helpful!

A little over a year ago, I found myself snowed in. I resorted to the elliptical, a machine which I feel bears even less merit than the dreaded suckmill.

It appears we’ve come full circle. The other day my workout was, once again, on the elliptical. And, just like last year, I had a difficult time swallowing my pride. It wasn’t until I yesterday’s outdoor run that I saw the wisdom in my choice. Long stretches of unshoveled snow, high snow piles, and ice-caked sidewalks make running outside almost as unsatisfying as the elliptical.

In less whiny news, Christmas has been kind to me. In addition to my new television and a very warm coat, I received an addition to my burgeoning supply of winter running gear. Gail gave me an Under Armor baselayer and tights; she also created a useful place for storing them that should prevent any future fiascoes (like the recent one). I now have a big plastic container with the following message attached:

A message from my running gear.

I hate treadmills. Hate ‘em. If I could, I would never use them– but this is sadly unfeasible. It seems like situations will always arise that send us indoors to that inexhaustible manufacturer of monotony.

Nothing drove that fact home more than the two feet of snow that blankets Bethlehem. The streets are icy and the roads buried beneath snow. All in all, it’d make for a dangerous, fruitless run outside. I knew what a responsible runner would do. My long run of the week would take place indoors.

So this responsible runner ran 12.5 miles on a treadmill, nonstop. My iPod won’t stay in my sweaty ears, and the TV didn’t seem to be working. It was miserable.

On the plus side, I’m injury free and I can actually offer you loyal readers some mile splits. I haven’t been able to keep track of my pace since my Forerunner drowned in a sea of sweat, so this is quite exciting for me. Anyway, here goes:

Miles 1-4: 6:40 Pace.
Miles 5-12.5: 6:18 Pace.

It was a grueling training session, between the boredom and the unusual intensity (you’d think that they’d conflict, but no—it’s a double whammy). I had decided that I needed a reward by the time I hit 12.5 of my 13 mile workout.

That is why I was seen yesterday afternoon, sprinting a half-mile around campus, wearing nothing but my running shorts and shoes. A wholly-earned victory lap in the snow. Because, dammit, being a responsible runner only gets you so far.

–adjective
1. Promising success; propitious; opportune; favorable.
2. When all of the snow melts on your first day of marathon training.

A warm rain swept across my area a couple of days ago, cutting through the snow and ice. Where once we had a winter wonderland, we now have only a few white mounds. They slump into the roads, shrinking by the day.

This means that I’m no longer bound to the well-plowed 4-mile route near my house. The walls of snow that contained me are gone—I can once again explore Philadelphia’s suburbs to my heart’s content. Or rather my heart’s capabilities; I am limited only by my own aerobic fitness.

Normally I would call this fortunate. But there’s something that launches it well over the boundaries of fortunate and into the realm of auspicious. The day before the rains hit, I sat down and came up with a rough outline for my marathon training. I had been running before that, of course, but with no specific plan in mind. My first day of goal-oriented running, of genuine training, was the day the rains hit.

So I feel like this is a propitious and an opportune turn of events. I think these are favorable conditions. I feel that the next few months of training promise success.