Triathlon Running Form: It's Hard To Say 'Goodbye.'

As the post below indicates, winter isn't the best time to work on running form. Icy roads put a premium on remaining slip-free and vertical which, for me, means shuffling along like an arthritic old geezer.

And this being the outer limits of The Great Suburban Outback, there are no salted sidewalks and few salted roads. You may find sand sprinkled on a treacherous intersection or a challenging hill, but it accomplishes little more than mimicking dog excrement when wet and a Sahara sandstorm when dry.

Thankfully, it's been a while since CoachKaryn quizzed me about my running. Unless one of you ratted me out, she's unaware that I've said a temporary "so long" to "proud form."

Goodbye to that slight forward lean from the waist up (because where your upper body points, your legs are sure to follow.)

Adios to 21 right foot falls in 15 seconds (because, like biking, running benefits from a quick tempo.)

Sayonara to leading with the arms, driving my hands forward with every stride (because it's hard to run slow when your arms are moving fast)

Au Revoir to opening up my shoulders (because as your shoulders go, so goes your lung capacity.)

Arrivederci to mid and front foot strikes (because, though less risky on slippery surfaces, every heel strike slows you down.)

It's pure survival. Living to fight, run, train and race another day.

I tell myself I'm not an old geezer but, form-wise, that's an increasingly hard argument to make as this wretched winter drags on. Spring better come soon or I'll have disremembered everything CoachKaryn taught me, though I guess some aerobic capacity is better than none.

Maybe a better option would be to create a cross-country ski trail around the perimeter of the field across the street. It'd be a mile, maybe more, with some nice up and down gradients.