My Pandemic Run Streak: 10K a day for a year

In March 2020, COVID-19 and my state’s resulting stay-at-home order made life a bit challenging. First, we were told to wash hands for 20 seconds. Next, we were told to stay six feet from one another. Then, everyone had to wear a mask. By mid-March, schools went online, businesses closed or switched to remote work, and eventually we were all told to just stay home.

While the world shut down around us, my 9YO son and I took off down the roads and sidewalks; he’d ride his bike and I’d pound the pavement. For the first few weeks we went out 4-5 miles nearly every day. Then, in April 2020, I read about a Garmin 30-day, 10K challenge and thought, “Why not?” I mean, including the previous 3 weeks and a 40-miler in February, I had run a total of 257 miles since the start of the new year. Why not bang out 240+ miles in a month?

And so, on April 19, 2020, my 10K run streak began.

The Short Version

My first week started with a half marathon, followed by a handful of 7ish mile runs, and ended with another half for a total of 63.68 miles. The second week came in at 60 miles and the third was just over 64. Around Day 20, feeling pretty good about finishing, I learned that the Garmin challenge was not “to run 10 kilometers a day”, but rather “take 10,000 steps a day.” I’m an idiot. And because I’m an idiot, I kept going.

After 30 days, I logged 253 miles (4 less than all the days in 2020 leading up to the streak). After 60 days, I reached 505 miles. After 90, I passed 775. 120 days in and I was up to 1,025. 6 months, 1,492. 9 months, 2,181. And, after a full year of running at least a 10K a day I logged 2,849.65 miles.

Holy balls I did it!

The Notes Version

Throughout my streak I jotted down my thoughts and kept up with stats in a spreadsheet. It was a great way for me to stay on track and remember the good and the bad. For your convenience or entertainment or whatever, I’ve compiled my jots, data, and loads of other nonsensical details below.

Stats

Social Aspect

While the pandemic afforded me the opportunity to complete a run streak, it also impacted the social aspect I had come to enjoy. Over the course of the past year, I ran 313 times (2,438.29 mi) by myself, 44 times (302.01 mi) with just my son as he rode his bike, thrice (19.84 mi) with just my daughter in a jogger, 8 times (50.78 mi) with both my son and daughter, and 4 times (38.73 mi) with another runner (split between two fast/backpacking trips). Of the solo runs, I ran most Saturdays and some other random days while talking to a buddy over the phone.

Backpacking

I didn’t want to give up backpacking and I was unwilling to end the streak to do so, so I came up with a solution to keep the streak alive when I hit the trails. For 2-day trips I’d run from home the morning of the first day and again in the evening when I returned. For 3-day trips, I’d do the same for days 1 and 3, and run a mountain 10K on the second day. For one trip, my buddy and I went fastpacking (a combination of trail running and backpacking) and averaged a 16:19 pace with packs on our backs over 3 days, 32.35 miles, and 7,000+ feet of elevation gain.

Weather

This streak has shown me that inclement weather is no longer a good excuse for me to skip a run or hit the dreadmill as I ran in just about every type of weather. Running in the rain was fine and usually I could get by with just a hat. Occasionally, if the rain was hard, I’d don a rain jacket. When the rain was cold and windy, I’d wear a rain jacket and rain pants which felt a lot like I was trying to make weight for a wrestling match. For the few days when I endured freezing rain, I just tried not to die.

When the wind was at my back everything came up Milhouse. When it hit me in my face, everything came up Ralph. And when it came from the side, I rode the struggle bus with Otto all the way home. Ha! Ha!

The heat was a challenge by itself. When paired with humidity, it was nearly unbearable. I’d sweat during my run and for 30 minutes after my shower. The cold was, uh, tolerable, but man there were days when I never actually warmed up until I was standing under a steady stream of warm water.

Thankfully, snow was never an issue. Silver lining?

Health

I didn’t take a sick day, but I had several days I wish I had (and probably should have). To avoid contracting, or, God forbid, spreading COVID-19, I wore a mask or Buff and Froggered around town steering clear of people—even after I got vaccinated.

Red elevens were never a problem, but my thighs reminded me whenever I forgot to lather up with Body Glide or Squirrel’s Nut Butter. I naturally dyed many nails black, and some just died. My skin cracked. My ankles rolled. And I scraped my hands, knees, arms, and elbows on multiple occasions because I am a clumsy fella.

In November 2020, I developed piriformis issues and found religion in my foam roller, lacrosse ball, ice pack, heating pad, and stretches. In February 2021, I injured my shoulder while backpacking and had to wear a compression sleeve for three weeks while running. In March 2021, I threw my back out while moving a box containing a treadmill of all things (a birthday present for my wife). I used to think there was no worse pain than what I felt in my piriformis. I was wrong, very wrong. Lower back pain, or rather running with lower back pain can be excruciating. Thankfully, my sports doc, physical therapist, and the marvel of modern medicine allowed me to keep going.

Also in March, just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, my mom passed with less than a month before my streak turned one year. If I hadn’t been running, if I didn’t have running, I’m certain my mental health would have taken a turn for the worse (R.I.P. Ma!)

Nutrition

Uncle Ben once told Spiderman, “With great humidity comes great perspire ability.” And since I tend to sweat like an open faucet, I heeded his advice and brought water whenever it was hot regardless of distance. For cooler runs under 10 miles, I drank water 15 minutes before I ran and left the bottle at home. For most runs longer than 10, I wore a hydration vest and packed it with waffles, GU, and blocks, and secured extra water along the route.

The more I ran, the more my diet changed. While I didn’t count calories, I started eating smaller portions, eating more snacks throughout the day, and drinking 3-5 Nalgene bottles of water. If I ate pre-run, I’d scarf a banana or a Stinger waffle an hour before (because barfing and cramps aren’t fun). Full disclosure, throughout my streak, I consumed a ridiculous amount of Diet Coke, OREOs, and oatmeal cream pies because they are delicious. And while I’m being honest, OREO loading the night before a long, hot, and humid run does not improve performance.

Anywho, thanks to diet and exercise I lost a total of 27 pounds or the equivalent of 3.6 newborn babies, 13.5 Nalgene bottles of water, 1,084 OREOs, or 2,449,396 ants.

Pooping

I’d be remiss not to talk about pooping. It’s sort of a thing I do, well we all do, but I do it a lot before and during a run. When I ran early, it took a while to wake up my colon and it usually woke up right before I left. When it decided to sleep in, I was forced to either carry paper (a must on long runs) or plan my route around one of the many construction projects in the area (extra important when jalapeños were on the menu the night before).

Since COVID-19 was a concern, if I sensed an overactive colon, I packed sanitizer or relied on my memory of a John with a soap dispenser (and prayed it was stocked). And on those hot, muggy days, hitting the head was the absolute worst. Seriously, when urine condenses on the walls of a Porta-John and the air inside fills with vapor it will challenge your understanding of the water cycle and push your gag reflex to its limit. The memory alone is enough to make me vomit.

All in all, I probably spent more than a hundred hours of my streak sitting on a toilet seat or hovering my derrière over the ground. That’s a lot of pooping! I know, right?

Gear

I ran in 5″ Tracksmith or Fourlaps shorts, Patagonia Capilene Cool Daily Tees (most of the time), and no show Balegas (mmm…so soft). I always ran with a Buff and sometimes slipped on a pair of CEP or Zensah calf sleeves.

I used a Garmin Fenix 6 Pro Solar to keep track of distance and tell me my runs were unproductive, and an Apple Watch with a single earbud for talking, tunes, and podcasts (The Nateland Podcast is my favorite).

Dark runs were lit with by a Nite Ize run vest, a pair of blinkers, and either a BD Sprint 225 or a BD Spot. Long runs required my Jurek Endure vest and a half roll of TP. Rain gear consisted of a Salomon Bonatti WP Rain Jacket and, occasionally, a pair of Outdoor Research Helium rain pants. Windy days were managed with a Patagonia Houdini jacket. And, cold days were made warmer with layers of tights, long sleeve pullovers, gloves, and winter hats.

On my feet, I primarily wore Adidas Adizero Bostons and Merrell Vapor Gloves because all but 6 runs were on the road. That said, I also ran in Merrell Trail Gloves, Brooks Cascadias, Merrell Moab hiking boots, and even in my bare feet.

By the end of the streak I retired 5 pairs of shoes, 2 pairs of socks, and 6 toenails.

Motivation

Apart from the 6 runs I did while backpacking, every other run started and ended from my house. To combat route fatigue, I’d switch it up mid-run and internally recalculate my route to see if I could guess the distance. In the beginning I was close, but not always accurate. By the fourth or fifth month I was nearly spot on every time.

Getting out of bed was never an issue. In fact, 49.46% of my streak took place before 7AM. You see? I love morning runs. I love everything about them. Well, almost everything. I’m not a fan of skunks crossing in front of me on dark roads or drivers who scream at me as they drive without their headlights while I’m running on the shoulder looking like a Griswald Christmas Tree or sewers. Yeah, sewers. Those things creep me out which is why I absolutely shine my headlamp into them. Clowns CAN happen! Whatever, you get the point. Waking up was not an issue.

It wasn’t until I made it through the summer that my wavering motivation and general boredom all but disappeared. Perhaps it was because I had become invested in my streak and stopping made less sense than continuing. Perhaps it was my son who asked me on a regular basis how many days I had run. Perhaps it was my friends cheering me on. Or, maybe, just maybe, I was finally enjoying the experience instead of focusing on the challenge.

TL;DR

I ran at least a 10K a day for a year during the pandemic. It was hard. I didn’t get a Garmin Badge.

Final Thoughts

First off, I want to thank my family and friends for their support and patience. To my son, thanks for your company and your inspiration. You made my day each and every time you joined me. To my daughter, thanks for the Sunday scavenger hunts and for bringing along books that you’d hold up so I could read them to you while also pushing you at a brisk pace. To my wife, thank you for your understanding and support of my nonsensical goal and your willingness to let me see it through. To Lynn, thank you for the Saturday morning water and snacks; you made my longs runs 100 times better. To Coop and Ken, thanks for letting me sneak in a run on our backpacking trips, and an extra thanks to you, Coop, for our fastpacking adventure. Lastly, thank you Farmer John for the all the times you got up early to run and talk with me. I am indebted to you all.

Second, if you’re considering a streak I can’t say it’s a good idea because it’s an absolutely horrible one. It’s painful, tiresome, trying, and frankly, it’s hard. However, if you do make the incredibly bad decision to run whatever distance for however long, you will not regret the experience or the reward waiting for you at the finish line.

Finally, while I’m not grateful for a global pandemic by any means, I’m happy I had the time to tackle a run streak. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, but was never able to quite make it work. With a year in the books, I can’t say how long I will continue, but I hit my goal and I’ll continue to streak until I don’t.