Four ideas on dealing with injuries during training

My friends. But they don't care if I'm injured.

My friends. But they don’t care if I’m injured.

Tell me you’ve heard this one before…

You’re training hard, working toward a specific goal. Things are going great, progressing nicely, and then it hits: An injury.

Now what?

I’ve faced this a bunch over the years. A cranky back, tweaked neck, wonky shoulders and sprained ankles. Last spring it was a tweaked hamstring, and there have been elbow, wrist and foot problems, to boot.

Last week, it was something else.

I’ve been working hard on building strength for the past couple of months, dialing back my running and pushing hard in the weight room. I still run, but less frequently and shorter distances. The bike has taken over some workouts where running used to be.

But a little over a week ago, I was doing a deadlift workout and tweaked my right trapezius muscle. The trapezius is a long back muscle that starts at the top of your neck, widens and thickens on your upper back, and runs down the side of your spine.

The trapezius. Mine was angry.

The trapezius. Mine was angry.

It is a crucial muscle in any lift where a hip-hinge movement is involved, and if it’s freaking out, you’ll know it every time you get out of bed, turn your head or try to pick something up.

I did a lot of rehab exercises to try to work out the kinks, but by late last week, it was still angry. The workout I had planned included Romanian deadlifts – a great hamstring and glute move that also works the back, and therefore, the trapezius. Additionally, I’d also be lifting a barbell off the floor to the front squat position for another exercise. Same deal, and my back was saying no.

The rest of my body was fine. But one ticked-off muscle can throw you for a loop.

I ended up doing two things. First, I modified that day’s workout to a lighter-weight circuit that included back squats, calf raises and reverse lunges. Six rounds of that, with minimal stress on the traps. Second, I skipped the next day’s shoulder workout entirely and just ran trails.

By Saturday, I was good to go for another deadlift workout (which also included farmer’s walks, cable pulls and pull-ups, all of which recruit the trapezius). I slayed that workout.

There are some important lessons here, and to be frank, sometimes you have to learn this the hard way, like me. Whether you’re training to get strong, for a long-distance race, or preparing for a major physical challenge (say, climbing a mountain), injuries are going to happen.

How do you handle them? Here are some ideas:

Sometimes you have to suck it up and train through it, but work around the problem. Not every injury requires you to shut it down and wait it out. Think it through and find ways to keep up your training without aggravating the problem. What I described above is a good example. Another: runners facing roadblocks can hop on a bike or swim for their conditioning needs until their bodies are well enough to hit the road.

Many injuries are caused by overuse and imbalances. These in turn put undue stress on others parts of your body, leading to injury. Diagnose that, and find ways to train those weak areas so other parts of your body aren’t overcompensating for the weakness and leaving you sidelined. For runners, “dead-butt syndrome” is a perfect example (lack of glute strength). Many lifters suffer from shoulder impingements (poor postural alignment, or underdeveloped back musculature are common there). The fixes are simple, but they will take time. Commit to it.

Your “form” in your training sucks. Fix it. So many runners I know pound their knees into oblivion by hard heel-striking. Others bounce too much, putting a ton of stress on the Achilles tendons. In strength training, poor form – especially on compound exercises, Olympic lifts and explosive movements – lead to potentially serious problems (and don’t get me started on doing these lifts in a fatigued state). My ongoing back issues can be traced back to piss-poor squat form over a decade ago that left me injured. I’ve had to work on that diligently to keep myself from getting hurt again. Proper form in any athletic pursuit mitigates injury. It’s usually pride that keeps people from fixing the problem, and ultimately leads the prideful to the sidelines, bemoaning a fate that could have been avoided.

Sometimes, you really do need to stop and heal. Injuries happen. If you rip your knee up, wrench your shoulder, suffer a stress fracture or hurt your back, there may not be enough chiro work, at-home rehab, Ibuprofen, inner toughness or other tricks to keep you moving forward. When that happens, you need rest, time to heal, and a plan for rehab and recovery. Whether it’s something as relatively minor as an ankle sprain before a big race or something major like a blown disk or ligament/muscle tear, there are definitely times when you need to swallow your pride, shut it down and get well.

If you're like me, you don't want to stop. But we have to be smart about it.

If you’re like me, you don’t want to stop. But we have to be smart about it.

I was fortunate that I knew what I could and couldn’t do in terms of what was a minor physical setback, but one that was big enough to potentially derail my training. I could do my squats; but the overhead presses the next day? Nope. And it all worked out in the end.

Bob Doucette

Moving beyond New Year’s resolutions

weights

It’s that time of year.

You’re going to see two types of people in the gym and on the trails: The New Year’s resolutioner and the people who have moved past resolutions. There is nothing right or wrong about being either. But there is merit to moving from the former to the latter.

You’ve got two kinds of resolutioners. The first type are the people who are getting in shape for the first time in their lives. This is a good place to be, because this person is a blank slate, ready to learn, and ready to improve his or her health. The second type includes those who have made more than one resolution to get fit, but come December find themselves where they were a year ago. The silver lining is you can look back on mistakes and learn from them, but it also means there is the possibility of learning and entrenching bad habits.

The folks who have moved past resolutions have a few common traits. They’re consistent. They’re patient. And they’re willing to learn new ways of doing things to achieve their goals. The new year presents new challenges instead of starting over. Most importantly, their health has become a priority in their lives. They make time to do the things needed to be healthy, fit and strong. Their achievements are built over years of putting in the work.

If you’re part of the resolutioner crowd, there are some simple things you can do to evolve past that. Here are a few:

Understand that becoming fit is a long-term process. You’re not going to magically sport a six-pack after a month of hitting the gym. Or two months. And there are no pills, devices or other shortcuts that actually work. Getting in shape, becoming strong, getting lean — all these outcomes take time and discipline. Be prepared to spend a good number of months putting in the work, and don’t get let down if you’re not seeing results after a few weeks. Keep at it. With that in mind…

Go into your fitness journey with a plan. Some exercise is better than none, but playing around with the weights and slogging away aimlessly on an elliptical won’t get you very far. Do you want to run a 5K? Find a training plan for it and stick to it. Are you seeking to get stronger? Talk to a trainer, do some internet research or consult with people in the know and learn how to do this. Create a training schedule, follow it and track your progress. Failing to plan is planning to fail. Figure out what you want, find a plan to achieve it, and then execute. It’s that simple.

Leave the phone in your locker. I cannot begin to tell you how many people I see wasting time farting around on their phones texting, updating social media or otherwise staring at their device and not training. You say you use it for music? Fine. If you’re disciplined enough to press play, slip on the earbuds and not do anything else with your phone until your workout is done, go for it. Otherwise, don’t bring it with you. It’s a distraction that prevents you from getting the work done.

Pay attention to what you put in your body. What you eat matters. What you drink matters. Eat real food, and not the fried, sugared or overly processed variety. Sugary drinks and alcohol pile on tons of mostly useless calories that get stored as fat and play havoc with your metabolism. Eat clean, get the right amount of protein and watch those liquid calories closely. An occasional beer or two on the weekends is not a problem, but much more than that and you’re probably going to undermine your efforts.

Set a tangible goal. Amazing things happen when you say, “I’m going to do this,” and then commit to it. When I ran a marathon, I told people beforehand I was going to do it. The result was transformative, and I learned a lot. My nephew Jordan chose a Spartan race as his goal, and now having done a couple of them, he’s in the best shape of his life. People I know have competed in bodybuilding, power lifting, mixed martial arts and more, while others have run ultramarathons, climbed big mountains or completed ambitious through-hikes. Their fitness was honed in on a goal, giving their efforts purpose. You don’t even have to be that dramatic. Maybe it’s competing in (or finishing) a shorter race, or perhaps being able to deadlift twice your body weight. Whatever it is, having a target helps measure progress during the process and success when it’s done.

When January 1 rolls around, where are you going to be? Are you ready to evolve? Get your mind right first, make a plan and make your health part of your daily lifestyle.

Bob Doucette

Running in the cold: Five things to consider

Too cold to run? Nonsense. You can still get out there.

Too cold to run? Nonsense. You can still get out there.

If last week reminds of us anything, it’s that cold weather season is here. One good cold snap plunged our nightly lows into single digits, and any thoughts of a mild winter have gone out the window. Gone are the days of those balmy runs where shorts and a T-shirt were all you needed.

But if you’re like me, the thought of relegating yourself to the treadmill or some hamster-wheel indoor track isn’t going to cut it. And neither will mailing it in on the couch. But, man, it’s really cold out there!

So what do you do?

You get out there. But you get out there prepared to deal with the elements. The truth is, you can get your training done and get your outside fix even when the temps drop to freezing or lower. In fact, you should get outside. So here are some ideas to help you get outside and get your training in…

First, prepare your mind. You can dread the cold, or you can look at it as a challenge. I prefer the latter. If you can force your mind to being OK with enduring cold temps, your training calendar opens up. Mental toughness is part of the process of becoming a better athlete, and part of that is being able to tackle a wider variety of conditions. If you’re constantly looking for the Goldilocks zone of training, you’ll only get outside for a few of weeks of the year. So get your mind right, saddle up and go.

Keep in mind, you’ll warm up as you go. If you’re standing around outside when it’s cold, you’ll feel cold. But when you’re moving, things change. I once heard marathon coach and Runners World contributing editor Bart Yasso tell athletes that you can expect to feel 20 degrees warmer than the actual outside temps during exercise. I can attest to this. At last month’s Route 66 Half Marathon, I stayed good and warm throughout the race despite temperatures that started in the lower 30s. There were two constants in that. The first, I was moving. The second leads me to the next point…

Dress for success. No, you won’t be able to train comfortably in sub-freezing temperatures dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. You’ve got to plan better than that. When it’s really cold, you need to keep warmth in your extremities, so that means a hat, decent socks and, if cold enough, gloves. But you also don’t want to get too warm. All that sweat could chill you further and counteract your desire to be warm (remember Bart Yasso’s 20-degree rule). So with that in mind, Runners World came up with a handy guide to clothing for the cold for runners. I’ll list it here rather than reinvent the wheel:

30 degrees: 2 tops, 1 bottom. Long-sleeve base layer and a vest keep your core warm. Tights (or shorts, for polar bears).

10 to 20 degrees: 2 tops, 2 bottoms. A jacket over your base layer, and wind pants over the tights.

0 to 10 degrees: 3 tops, 2 bottoms. Two tops (fleece for the cold-prone) and a jacket.

Minus 10 to 0 degrees: 3 tops, 2 bottoms, extra pair of mittens, 1 scarf wrapped around mouth or a balaclava.

Minus 20 degrees: 3 tops, 3 bottoms, 2 extra pairs of mittens, 1 balaclava, sunglasses. Or, in other words, “Stay inside.”

Sounds like good advice to me.

If you dress for it, cold weather runs can be awesome.

If you dress for it, cold weather runs can be awesome.

Think about precipitation. If it’s snowing or raining, be sure to have some sort of rain gear to keep your body dry. Wear moisture-wicking socks. And if possible, the most water-resistant shoe you have. You’ll probably still get a little wet, but do the things that will mitigate weather-related moisture on your body.

Fuel and hydrate properly. Just because it’s cold does not mean your hydration needs won’t be high. Colder months are often drier months, so proper hydration is still very important. Also, your body burns more calories when it’s cold than when it does when it’s warm. How so? Your body has to work harder just to keep its core temperature up. It’s a battle in which your body is resisting the outside temperatures’ pressure to bring your body temperature down. Stoking your inner furnace costs calories, and if you’re not properly fueled, you can bonk pretty hard in the cold. It happens. So fuel up and hydrate.

So there are five things you can do to get ready for cold weather training. What other tips to you have? Feel free to comment and give me your advice!

Bob Doucette

Freedom on two wheels

Hello, darlin'.

Hello, darlin’.

It was shortly after another holiday eat-fest that I felt too flubbery to stand it any longer. As much as I savored the food on the table and the brews from the fridge, all that consumption and sitting around had finally worn me down.

I needed to get out.

I guess I could go run. Or take a walk. But I looked in the corner of the sun room by the front door of my house and saw it there, like an expectant puppy, just waiting to be taken out: My old 1998 Trek, a mountain bike built in the days before mountain biking got fancy.

Let’s go, it beckoned. Let’s take a ride, feel the wind in your face, and breeze by some scenery before the sun goes down…

It didn’t take much convincing.

***

I come from a family of cyclists. All the kids learned to ride at an early age, usually on some sort of entry-level machine with a banana seat and a place to fly a flag. We’d clip playing cards on the frame so they’d make that cool sound on the spokes, helping us imagine we were on a motorcycle, getting ready to jump over a row of buses like Evel Knieval.

My dad was a little more serious about it. He had this big, steel-frame Schwinn 10-speed that weighed a ton but could fly with the right sort of rider in its saddle. My dad was that sort of rider. He could make that lime-green chunk of metal go, and whenever he wished to take a break somewhere along his route, he’d dig into a little leather pouch attached below the seat, light up a Kool menthol and soak in the day.

My oldest brother Mike also made cycling a lifelong habit. As an adult, he’d do epic rides from his house in suburban Denver all the way into town and back, cruising up and down sizable hills that most of us weren’t ready to handle.

As for me, the bike was a tool to get me from my house to a friend’s place — fast transportation that would expedite whatever childhood hijinks was on tap that day.

Beyond that, it was also an escape pod of sorts. Imagine some sci-fi movie where people need to get off the ship and onto the surface of some strange, alien world. They step in, buckle up and jettison themselves straight outta there and into whatever adventure awaited. The bike’s not much different: Wheel it out on your driveway, hop on the saddle and go.

Where you go doesn’t really matter. The fact that you can zip your way down the street toward whatever destination awaited is the real trick, cruising as fast as your legs and its gears will take you.

In that way, a bike is liberating: A simple, go-anywhere tool to take you somewhere else on the spur of the moment. When you think about it, it’s pretty liberating.

A bike is freedom.

***

My road bike is in a bad way right now, so if I want to ride anywhere, it’s on my seriously outdated mountain bike, knobby tires and all. I definitely don’t look like one of the cool kids in their $5,000 road bikes, decked out in skin-tight cycling uniforms bedecked with company logos and whatnot. Not that I care. My bike’s got 21 speeds, is mechanically sound and does the job. And unlike the cool kids and their pricey get-ups, I can take mine across grass, rocks, pavement, mud and anything else and not fear a thing.

But we all hold this one thing in common — we can get places quickly, kind of like a car, but we can also stop and have a look around on a moment’s notice, just like you could on foot. It’s rather frowned upon to stop your car in the middle of the street to gawk at something you find interesting.

Anyway, I found myself in such a spot barely a mile into my ride. I was crossing a bridge over the Arkansas River, the sun sinking lower and giving the sky that soft, low-light glow of approaching dusk, right when the shadows are getting long. The river was fairly full, surrounding a small, tree-covered island. High-rise apartments and commercial buildings towered over the river in the distance. Reflections off the water were a rippled, tinted orange. Most of the trees still held on to their fall colors, matching the sun’s mellowing glow.

I lingered for a bit, taking it in. I wish I had a camera, but in my rush to ride, I left the electronics behind. No matter. I hopped back on the seat and pedaled on, crossing the river and ripping by a group of apartments overlooking the Arkansas’ west bank.

What it looked like on another ride.

What it looked like on another ride.

***

Some of my fondest memories growing up surrounding fishing. When I lived in Colorado, it was for trout. For the one year I lived in rural Illinois, it was bass.

And what a sweet year that was.

An 11-year-old kid in a small Illinois farm town has no excuse to be bored. None. I know this because I found plenty to do. Sometimes that involved getting into trouble, but most of the time, when the weather was good, it started with me grabbing a pole, a tackle box and a red 10-speed and jetting out of my wooded neighborhood down dusty farm roads to a friend’s house where there were a few well-stocked farm ponds.

I cut my angler’s teeth on those ponds, reeling in small bass and bluegills by the dozens during the summer months. Sometimes I’d meet up with friends, other times I’d go by myself. That suited me just fine.

I reeled in my first “big” bass on one such trip, happily riding home to show off the trophy I hauled out of that one-acre pond. A few weeks later, I bested the feat, coaxing a fat largemouth out of the weeds with a carefully retrieved plastic worm. I felt like an expert that day, that maybe there was a long-term future in this fishing thing for me. That’s what 11-year-olds think, anyway. I know better now, but no matter. The memory is a sweet one.

But getting to that prized fishing hole would have been a whole lot harder had I not had that steel-frame 10-speed. Without it, I might have been tempted to sulk around the house during those long summer days, waiting for the next thing to happen. Who knows? Maybe life in that small town would have been pretty boring after all, if not for the escape I found on two wheels.

***

I must admit, I fell out of love with the bike for many years. As soon as I got old enough to drive, I didn’t see the point.

I can remember a couple failed attempts at mountain biking. It seemed cool, and the people who were doing it seemed cool. I guess I wasn’t. Being out of shape and riding a borrowed (and rather crappy) bike didn’t help.

But moving from my apartment to a new place farther away from work got me thinking. I used to be able to walk to work, which I loved. I spent more than 20 years driving anywhere from 70 to 100 miles a day on my daily commute, so spending a few minutes walking to work was an eye-opener. Leaving that luxury behind left me a little blue.

But what if I could live close enough where I could bike to work? Surely, I could find a cheap ride that would do the job. I found a place close enough to my job to do just that, and within a month, I purchased two used bikes for dirt cheap, fixed them up, and became a bike commuter.

Bike commuting is sort of a pain. Walking to work is far simpler, and driving to work is more convenient. But a year later, it’s become normal.

But something else happened. I rediscovered what I’d lost when I got my driver’s license, that simple pleasure of feeling the wind in your face and the smell of fresh air on a casual ride around town. Or the satisfaction of being able to hop on my ride and go pretty much anywhere, and do it without spending a dime in gas money. People ride around town, on trails, across the country and even over frozen wildernesses and high mountain passes on bikes, you know.

It was nice to ponder that as I rounded out my loop, riding a few miles in the cool autumn air, then climbing the big hill toward home, out of breath but feeling good. No, not just feeling good. Feeling right. I’d gotten reacquainted with a long-lost love, and discovered that even after such a long time, things could be good again.

It feels good to be free. To go on a whim. To ride for miles, wondering what I might see, how much ground I might cover. To escape lethargy and feel the burning in your lungs and legs, payment for seeing how fast I could rip the straightaways in a high gear.

We often wonder what it would be like to go back in time, to be a kid again, with a chance to start anew.

Well, get on a saddle, point your ride down the road and find out.

Bob Doucette

Training log: What to do when you have a bad day

A wonderful scene from a long run past. If only it was that still and pleasant last weekend.

A wonderful scene from a long run past. If only it was that still and pleasant last weekend.

Here in the heart of fall race season, things have been going pretty good. Once I got back from my last trip to Colorado, I planned out a training schedule and ramped up the miles leading to the Route 66 half marathon on November. In the weeks since, each long run has been an improvement over the last, and it seems I’m ahead of where I was at this time last year. I went into this weekend thinking a PR was within reach.

So on Saturday, I headed out for a 10-miler, as per the schedule. It was over 80 degrees with a stiff south wind, which meant that  I’d spend the first half of the workout going straight into it.

No prob, I thought. I’ll have a tailwind on the way back and all will be well.

Not so fast. Those first five miles went fine, but as I turned around to finish up, a solid training run turned into a miserable slog. I returned home wrecked and a bit discouraged.

The weekend also had a good number of friends racing various ultramarathons, complete with medals, buckles and trophies from 50K, 50 mile, 100K and even 100-mile finishes. One woman I know completed her fourth hundo in four weeks while another did back-to-back marathons over the weekend, completing both at 3:35 or faster.

And there I was reeling a little from just 10.

I’m sure many of you have had some crappy runs, and felt bad after comparing yourself to others. I was feeling that a bit. But here’s the thing. Everyone has an off day. But instead of questioning yourself, you should be asking the right questions. Or perhaps looking at it differently. Some thoughts:

Sometimes you have an off day. Bad sleep, a slip in your diet, a hard week of training, life stress, or a combination of any/all of these things can sap your strength. Fix what you can fix, but understand that physical performance is affected by a lot of variables, and sometimes you just aren’t at your best.

Comparisons are only useful in competitive settings. If you are the type of runner or athlete who competes for podium finishes and trophies, yeah, comparisons are part of the deal. But if you’re like 99.9 percent of the runners out there and you’re testing yourself against yourself, it’s not very useful. I know I’m not a sub-20 minute 5K runner, or the type of person who will run 100-mile ultras. I’m not that kind of a runner. Why would I compare myself to those who are? If these people inspire you to push yourself, that’s healthy. But if you’re comparing yourself to them and measuring your worth by how far you lag behind them, you’re shooting yourself in the foot. Celebrate others’ successes, but keep your eyes on the prize — your goals, and yours only.

Analyze what went right and wrong, but not too much. Weather conditions can be a big factor on how well you train. A warm, windy day doesn’t make for great conditions for high performance over longer distances. Same deal for times when it’s really humid, or too cold. For example, a friend of mine ran the OKC Memorial Marathon a few years back, hoping to improve on his typical four-hour finish times. But during the last half of the race, the winds kicked up considerably (15-20 mph steady, with 30 mph gusts) and temperatures soared into the mid-80s. He ended up finishing in six hours. He’s not a six-hour marathoner by any means. But the sun and the winds made sure he was on that day. So you can see where analyzing the conditions, or your prep, or whatever, can give insight on what went right and wrong. But don’t go too deep into the weeds, as that might force you into changing what you do too much, and then sabotage you going forward. Paralysis by analysis is real. Take a look, adjust where you can, but stay the course.

Speaking of that, remember to trust the process. If you’re on a training schedule, or under the direction of a good coach, the best thing you can do is shrug off a bad day, look ahead to what’s next, and do it. Day after day after day. I remember reading a piece on the T-Nation website (it’s geared toward strength training) that said that every awesome performance is built on the foundation of dozens, or hundreds, of very average days. The lesson: Consistency matters. Don’t get so down that you end up slacking off, as that is usually the first step toward quitting. Keep grinding, keep going, trust the process, and when the big day arrives, do your best. Your best will be built upon all those good — and bad — training days.

Keep at it, folks. Don’t let a bad day get ya down.

Bob Doucette

 

Hiking Eagle Peak, near Colorado Springs, CO

Pikes Peak, as seen from the Eagle Peak summit.

Pikes Peak, as seen from the Eagle Peak summit.

It’s taken me awhile to post about this hike, one of three that I did on my last visit to Colorado this summer.

I was going to meet up with my friend Chuck and a buddy of his named Kevin. The original plan was to climb the Citadel near Loveland Pass, but the weather decided not to cooperate. Time for Plan B, which in this case was Eagle Peak, a 9,368-foot mountain overlooking the U.S. Air Force Academy near Colorado Springs. I figured this would be a good warm-up hike for doing a four-peak loop later in the week. Little did I know that it would offer plenty of challenge on its own.

It was surprisingly steep. In addition, several sections were pretty loose. Eagle Peak is no stroll in the park.

That said, it’s scenic, and for the uber-fit fellas from the Academy or the trail runners in the Springs, it’s a great running challenge right outside of town. More power to ’em. I had a tough enough time hiking up the dang thing with my flatlander lungs.

The payoff, of course, goes beyond the fitness benefits. The summit views are amazing. I’ll let the pics to the talking.

Looking north from the summit.

Looking north from the summit.

The Air Force Academy campus.

The Air Force Academy campus.

Another view from the top, looking toward the Academy and the city.

Another view from the top, looking toward the Academy and the city.

The trail itself was beautiful, with a flat section below the summit filled with aspens and evergreens, and a waterfall farther down. I didn’t get a decent pic of the falls, but I did snap some other shots of the woods.

Kevin and Chuck hiking the trail.

Kevin and Chuck hiking the trail.

Aspen grove.

Aspen grove.

Wooded goodness on a well-placed flat section of the route. Trust me, the rest of this trail is dang steep.

Wooded goodness on a well-placed flat section of the route. Trust me, the rest of this trail is dang steep.

I’ve heard Eagle Peak described as “the Incline, but on a trail.” Sounds about right (The Incline, if you’re not familiar with it, is a popular hike up an old cog rail line that picks up about 2,000 feet in a mile. Its trailhead is in Manitou Springs). It’s a 3.6-mile out-and-back hike on what I’d call a difficult Class 2 route with around 2,106 feet of elevation gain. Needless to say, it made it easy to justify the barbecue feast the ensued after this one was over.

For people living in the area, Eagle Peak might be a good substitute for the Incline, as the latter is being closed for maintenance. The peak is also far less crowded and doesn’t come with any parking fees.

GETTING THERE: Go to the South Gate at the Air Force Academy and  gain entry to the school’s property (a guard will ask questions before you continue). Drive on Stadium Boulevard, and turn west on Academy Drive when you get to the stadium. Drive to where the Falcon Trail meets the road and park there.

Bob Doucette

What it’s like to be the World’s Sweatiest Human

What I'm like, an hour after a run. No joke. Well, sort of a joke.

What I’m like, an hour after a run. No joke. Well, sort of a joke.

As I’m writing this, the high temperature here in the Southern Plains hit 97 degrees. Yeah, while most of you are talking about fall foliage and pumpkin spice, summer still has a firm grip on my environs.

And that brings me to the subject here. I think I might be the World’s Sweatiest Human. Not really kidding about that, either. When the outside temps hit 70 or more, it doesn’t take much more than a casual stroll to get my sweat glands working.

(Now I know there are people with medical conditions of various sorts who are actually sweatier than me, but hey, just go with it.)

I’m a pretty active person, and most of my activity takes me outside. So this, combined with the fact that it’s been anywhere from very warm to hellishly hot/humid over the past four to five months, has given me plenty of time and experience to contemplate the woes of being the World’s Sweatiest Human (WSH for short). And because I exist, in some form or another, to entertain you, I feel compelled (if not outright mandated) to overshare this experience. So here we go, with some observations of being the WSH:

Cold water, please: I can count the number of hot showers I’ve taken this summer on one hand. Work schedules mean that I train before my shift starts, and that means cleaning up for the job is an exercise not only in hygiene, but also cooling off. Cold showers are mandatory, even if they’re uncomfortable. I probably won’t regularly take hot (or even warm) showers for another month.

Longest hour ever:  The process of cooling down after a summer run usually takes 50 minutes. I’m not joking. Almost an hour before I stop sweating. And this creates logistical challenges…

Dress code:  It’s not unusual for me to wear a raggedy T-shirt to work, using the commute time to cool down and then change out of that sweat-soaked shirt into work attire. Fun, huh?

Can I get an amen?  It also means that when I first get to the office, I’m  fanning myself like grandma during the old-time gospel hour at Country Road Baptist Church. Lawd, help me.

Drip factor = extreme: After any given outdoor workout, I can wring the sweat from my clothes like I’d just gotten caught in a downpour. Puddles ensue. It’s kinda gross.

Constant spin cycle: During the course of the week, I generate more laundry than three normal people combined. Also kinda gross.

Me > tech fabrics:  Moisture-wicking fabrics have no power over me. They just get very wet and stinky instead of merely stinky.

Hot and cold: This is a problem during alpine hikes, where profuse sweat, cold temps and windy conditions leave me vulnerable to hypothermia. Yes, I layer. No, it doesn’t help that much on the uphill. Apparently, I am immune to layering.

I could go on, but you get the point. I suppose I could run shirtless, thus cutting my laundry volume in half, but I’m not sure anyone wants to see that.

But such is life for the World’s Sweatiest Human. I’m not about to stop, and I’m glad that my body works the it’s supposed to and that I manage to stay hydrated. Just know that if you want to give me a hug, a chest bump or even a high-five after a workout, you’re gonna up your daily “ewww” factor a couple of notches.

You’ve been warned.

Bob Doucette