"I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas..."
   A Midwestern Boy on Guam reflects on Running Iowa

by Lyle Babberyl, GRC member

I'm writing this in December on Guam. This time of year our thoughts often turn to family and friends back in the upper Midwest. Recollections aren't all of warm fires and friendly gatherings. As I run the tropical byways of Guam I remember the joys and pain of running in the dead of winter in a less than tropical climate. Different categories of joy and pain, to be sure. LWB
                                                           December 15, 2001

The school I taught in sponsored a "500 mile club" each winter to help some of the track students keep fit during the five months of off season. A few of us teachers took up the challenge also and tried to out compete each other for distance during this winter spell. Although deep snow was seldom a problem, low temperatures, sleet, and wind chill definitely were. Ice glazing on the road was not only a hazard to driving but also to staying on your feet as I can attest on numerous occasions. I ran in some harsh, miserable, and if the truth were known, dangerous conditions that winter. I also ran in some of the most beautiful pristine landscapes one can imagine as I traveled the back farm lanes and roads around that rural part of the Midwest.

Winter darkness comes early to that part of North America in November through March and what would start as a twilight run would end up as after dark maneuvers. Once I got over the spookiness of the dark, I really began to enjoy the beauty and tranquility of the that time of day. If the moon was up, the world would be lit with an unearthly glow that had to be experienced to appreciate.

Traffic on the back country roads was not much of a problem in the winter since people would drive slowly on the slippery roads and the head lights glowing in the distance were very obvious. Hopping up on the bank created by the snow plows would put you safely out of harms way. The most interesting part of approaching trucks and cars was when it was snowing (the harder the better). The glow of light as the vehicle approached on the far side of a hill before it came over the crest was indeed a sight to behold. The air in the lighted path would be filled with falling snow and around the glow would create a prismatic effect with the ice crystals making a rainbow of color. As the vehicle approached, it appeared to be traveling through a tunnel filled with falling snow, the rainbow effect around that, and utter blackness outside of that. I never failed to admire the otherworldly effect of gentle snow during
an after-dark run.

Early morning runs were often an exercise in a crystal fairyland. Overnight the frost would grow on naked branches, fence wires and power lines, giving the landscape a surreal appearance. If there had been a freezing rain, the trees and wires would be coated with a glassy clear layer of ice that would refract early morning sunlight in a most spectacular and beautiful manner.

Not all winter running was crystal ice and everything nice. Sleet stinging the face was a painful occurrence and a real danger but wind chill was the greatest and most constant discomfort. Most of my runs were of the "out and back" type so part of the way was into and part back with the wind. I always tried to ensure the first half of the run was into the wind so the tailwind would push me back home. On more than one occasion the wind and low temperature combination was too much to fight against and I would sweet talk my wife into driving me five miles up wind from our house so I could run
with the wind pushing me back home and I would experience relatively little suffering or danger of frostbite. She would normally comply to my request if the roads weren't too treacherous. Her joke to our friends was that she kept dumping me miles out in the country but, just like the stray cat you're trying to get rid of, I kept finding my way back home.

Lyle B.