For most of us, running in the heat is uncomfortable, slows us a bit, and we would certainly prefer to race on cooler days. For me, it became a life threatening issue that terrified my family.
Last year’s Reeds Lake Run (2010) was held on a hot (about 80+ at race time) and very humid morning. My wife, the brains of the operation and a real runner, refused to run the 10K that year and opted for the 5K, with the now humorous comment of “I can’t run in this heat like you can!” I had only run one 10K before (2010 River Bank) and was embarrassed by my slow time. In full “old guy testosterone” mode, I’ll show you (?) no hills, heat, or humidity will slow me down!
So, filled with more arrogance than intelligence, I took off down the course. I had trained on the actual course hoping for 9 minute miles on race day, but “flew” (Look, even though I had lost over 100 lbs. I’m still a chubby old guy!) up the first gentle hill at the rock and had a very low 8 at the 1 mile clock. This did not improve my I.Q.! I was getting a bit warm at the little hill before the 2 mile clock and failed in an attempt to drink half a cup of Gatorade, but I was at barely over 16 minutes! In retrospect, it was that third mile that got me. The blacktop that runs along the swampy G R Township side of the lake is right at water level. The sun had had some time to really cook the road surface and the humidity from the standing water was thick, but I was passing all those younger folks with their runner’s bodies and cruised up the deceptive hill near Beltline and chugged up the Hall St hill. The 3.1 mile clock was at 25 minutes and I was wondering if Superman capes came in Clydesdale sizes when I started feeling “a little funny”.
After a few more blocks I was clearly starting to feel exhausted, but I was running “The Race of My Life!” and wasn’t about to screw it up. I decided to shorten my stride and bend my legs to protect my geriatric knees, but keep my kick to not slow up too much. Then I started feeling light headed. “OK” I thought, “this isn’t good. Let’s check the 4 mile clock and decide how to change my finishing pace to something more reasonable.” I never made it to Breton Rd.
Slight downhill grade, left foot in good kick form out in the air, right thigh failing to “catch” while still striding forward, and a picturesque swimmer’s sprint start right into the pavement, chin first! No scrapes, skinned knees or other defensive wounds, just 210 lbs. thrust hard into Hall St. on my chin. In the split second before I hit like a human flyswatter, I realized this was going to be BAD, but had no idea how bad it was actually going to get. So, a flash of light, a few surreal seconds of watching the departing soles of several running shoes, and everything faded to black.
I woke up (sort of) in the ambulance about 30 minutes later with my chin bone sticking out, sweating like wild, sucking air and battling with the EMT for more, saying and believing some really strange things, and horribly confused along with the mother of all concussions! Mean while, by the time I’ve been triaged at Blodgett my ex-football interior lineman’s body core temperature is still rising. My heat exhaustion had been turning into heat stroke and now the “fun” began! The ER staff started packing my neck, head, arm pits, and groin with bags of ice. I was covered with a thin blanket as they repeatedly poured ice water on it and cranked up a large fan. I was still sweating so badly the EKG leads wouldn’t stay attached, and my liver enzymes were both well over 490 (found out later that’s a bad thing!), I was amazed at how many people they could have working on me in that little room, my heart rate was still over 160 and I was weak as a kitten, disoriented, and terrified.
Eventually they got my core temp down to 40 (104F) and my heart rate down below 60, I realized I would have more time to get closer to God from this side, only three staff people remained, my skull was declared intact, and I started learning about the destruction to one’s internal organs during heat stroke. I spent Saturday and Sunday in the hospital, then spent weeks waiting for the results of my continuing blood tests to approach something close to normal. During the recovery process, four different cardiologists seemed to think my heart was fine, and I think I was lucky enough to avoid any permanent organ tissue damage, but I didn’t feel “right” again until the middle of August! I didn’t enter another race until October.
“Wide bodied” folks like me can retain the body core heat of exertion longer than thinner runners, but it’s dangerous for all of us. For me, I still hydrate like crazy in the morning, but find dumping cold water from the water stations on my “Champions” shirt helps keep me cooler during a race. Heat exhaustion can make one dizzy, weak, nauseous, fatigued, cramped, and/or aching in head or muscles. Allowing it to progress to heat stroke can kill you!
I don’t know how or why, but somehow I had the staff at the hospital ER convinced I was a physician! Wow, not even close! Therefore I’ve added a link below that could be more helpful to those interested in how heat stroke happens.
A Word About HEAT STROKE
For most of us, running in the heat is uncomfortable, slows us a bit, and we would certainly prefer to race on cooler days. For me, it became a life threatening issue that terrified my family.
Last year’s Reeds Lake Run (2010) was held on a hot (about 80+ at race time) and very humid morning. My wife, the brains of the operation and a real runner, refused to run the 10K that year and opted for the 5K, with the now humorous comment of “I can’t run in this heat like you can!” I had only run one 10K before (2010 River Bank) and was embarrassed by my slow time. In full “old guy testosterone” mode, I’ll show you (?) no hills, heat, or humidity will slow me down!
So, filled with more arrogance than intelligence, I took off down the course. I had trained on the actual course hoping for 9 minute miles on race day, but “flew” (Look, even though I had lost over 100 lbs. I’m still a chubby old guy!) up the first gentle hill at the rock and had a very low 8 at the 1 mile clock. This did not improve my I.Q.! I was getting a bit warm at the little hill before the 2 mile clock and failed in an attempt to drink half a cup of Gatorade, but I was at barely over 16 minutes! In retrospect, it was that third mile that got me. The blacktop that runs along the swampy G R Township side of the lake is right at water level. The sun had had some time to really cook the road surface and the humidity from the standing water was thick, but I was passing all those younger folks with their runner’s bodies and cruised up the deceptive hill near Beltline and chugged up the Hall St hill. The 3.1 mile clock was at 25 minutes and I was wondering if Superman capes came in Clydesdale sizes when I started feeling “a little funny”.
After a few more blocks I was clearly starting to feel exhausted, but I was running “The Race of My Life!” and wasn’t about to screw it up. I decided to shorten my stride and bend my legs to protect my geriatric knees, but keep my kick to not slow up too much. Then I started feeling light headed. “OK” I thought, “this isn’t good. Let’s check the 4 mile clock and decide how to change my finishing pace to something more reasonable.” I never made it to Breton Rd.
Slight downhill grade, left foot in good kick form out in the air, right thigh failing to “catch” while still striding forward, and a picturesque swimmer’s sprint start right into the pavement, chin first! No scrapes, skinned knees or other defensive wounds, just 210 lbs. thrust hard into Hall St. on my chin. In the split second before I hit like a human flyswatter, I realized this was going to be BAD, but had no idea how bad it was actually going to get. So, a flash of light, a few surreal seconds of watching the departing soles of several running shoes, and everything faded to black.
I woke up (sort of) in the ambulance about 30 minutes later with my chin bone sticking out, sweating like wild, sucking air and battling with the EMT for more, saying and believing some really strange things, and horribly confused along with the mother of all concussions! Mean while, by the time I’ve been triaged at Blodgett my ex-football interior lineman’s body core temperature is still rising. My heat exhaustion had been turning into heat stroke and now the “fun” began! The ER staff started packing my neck, head, arm pits, and groin with bags of ice. I was covered with a thin blanket as they repeatedly poured ice water on it and cranked up a large fan. I was still sweating so badly the EKG leads wouldn’t stay attached, and my liver enzymes were both well over 490 (found out later that’s a bad thing!), I was amazed at how many people they could have working on me in that little room, my heart rate was still over 160 and I was weak as a kitten, disoriented, and terrified.
Eventually they got my core temp down to 40 (104F) and my heart rate down below 60, I realized I would have more time to get closer to God from this side, only three staff people remained, my skull was declared intact, and I started learning about the destruction to one’s internal organs during heat stroke. I spent Saturday and Sunday in the hospital, then spent weeks waiting for the results of my continuing blood tests to approach something close to normal. During the recovery process, four different cardiologists seemed to think my heart was fine, and I think I was lucky enough to avoid any permanent organ tissue damage, but I didn’t feel “right” again until the middle of August! I didn’t enter another race until October.
“Wide bodied” folks like me can retain the body core heat of exertion longer than thinner runners, but it’s dangerous for all of us. For me, I still hydrate like crazy in the morning, but find dumping cold water from the water stations on my “Champions” shirt helps keep me cooler during a race. Heat exhaustion can make one dizzy, weak, nauseous, fatigued, cramped, and/or aching in head or muscles. Allowing it to progress to heat stroke can kill you!
I don’t know how or why, but somehow I had the staff at the hospital ER convinced I was a physician! Wow, not even close! Therefore I’ve added a link below that could be more helpful to those interested in how heat stroke happens.
It’s summer. Be careful out there!
http://www.medicinenet.com/heat_stroke/article.htm