YELLOWKNIFE — As any top athlete knows, the best training regimens incorporate an element of brutality.
Swiss tennis ace Roger Federer prepares for big matches in the searing desert heat of Dubai. Sumo wrestlers wallop one another with baseball bats or bamboo swords to get fighting fit. Ex-NHL sharpshooter Pavel Bure was known for skating lap after lap trailing a parachute.
And then there's Lore-ann Krysko.
The 44-year-old government worker may not aspire to such lofty athletic heights, but that doesn't mean her training is any less severe. Ms. Krysko is a marathoner living in Yellowknife, where the mere act of stepping outside in running tights this time of year is a test of will.
“Those first couple minutes where you're thinking you aren't going to be warm enough are the worst,” says Ms. Krysko, who has won both the Yellowknife and Hay River, NWT, half-marathons. “But if you actually go through with it, it does make you psychologically tougher.”
Yellowknife's average January temperature hovers between lows around -30 C and highs around -20. Hypothermia can set in instantly. Exposed skin can freeze in a matter of minutes. And yet Yellowknife has become a city of runners.
Through a combination of sheer resolve and specialized attire such as wind briefs and shoes studded like snow tires, joggers in the capital city have formed what must be one of the world's hardiest running communities.
“It really gets the blood pumping for the few daylight hours that we have,” says Francis Chang, 51, who has helped train several hundred Yellowknifers over the years through programs at the gym he owns. Mr. Chang says 80 to 120 aspiring runners, aged from teens to early 60s, sign up for his groups every year, though not all of them stick to it through the frigid winter months.
Like most people here, Mr. Chang had no desire to run in -35 wind chill when he first arrived in town more than 30 years ago. “I hated running,” he says. He wasn't keen on the whole town seeing him sweat either. “I was too embarrassed to run in the open like that, so I ran on a treadmill instead.”
On a -38 day in December, his brother finally convinced him he should try it. He overdressed in a heavy jacket and thick mittens, but by the time he'd shed down to an undershirt, he was hooked. Today, he heads into the cold for a run three times a week and sometimes brings upward of 18 people with him.
The hardest part about northern running is overcoming the initial shock of opening the front door. “It's like jumping into a cold pool,” says Corey McLachlan, 30, another avid runner. “Your first impression is to jump right back out.”
But eventually, most runners decide that the benefits outmatch the discomforts. “Because the winters are so long, you need to be outside and active and doing things,” Mr. McLachlan says. “If you don't, the winters feel longer and darker and colder.”
The right clothes go a long way in easing into an arctic running routine.
For men, wind-resistant briefs are a must. “As a guy, you only forget to wear those once,” Mr. McLachlan says.
Other sartorial standards include several different weights of thermal underwear, mitts, hiking socks and balaclavas, which dampen the burning sensation of breathing frosty air.
Footwear often depends on the weather. Mr. Chang prefers a special Swedish shoe that comes with small cleats. “You can run on ice and turn on a dime,” he says.
Others use Yaktrax, webs of rubber and metal bands that pull over the bottom of any normal shoe for added
traction.
As for food and water, the trick is to carry everything as close to the skin as possible. Even a poorly insulated CamelBak – a back-mounted water carrier – won't freeze until about -25 as long as it's worn underneath a jacket. Energy bars need to be warmed up in an armpit before they're soft enough to chew.
And you can pretty much forget about wearing an iPod. The batteries barely last an hour unless kept warm against the skin.
Armed with the right attire, Yellowknifers run a number of unique events over the winter months.
In one loosely organized event, runners strike out across Great Slave Lake for the village of Detah, about 13 kilometres away.
And last year marked the inauguration of the Rock and Ice Ultra. This ultra-marathon features two running events: a one-day, 75-kilometre race and a three-day, 135-kilometre race. The temperature plummeted to -40 for last year's event, prompting half of the more than 100 participants – who come from as far away as Taiwan, South Africa and France – to drop out.
“After -40, nothing works,” says Scott Smith, the race director, who's anticipating a much larger international field this year. “That's about when you have to pull the plug.”
But that hasn't stopped Ms. Krysko from signing up for this year's event, which starts March 22. She started training specifically for the ultra on Boxing Day with a four-hour run in -27 weather. “I mainly wanted to make sure that my food wouldn't freeze,” she says.
Ms. Krysko is also training for the Ironman triathlon in August in Penticton, B.C., where she hopes her extreme training will give her an edge.
“Every time that cold wind hits, you think ‘other people aren't doing this,' ” she says. “Psychologically, that makes you tougher. And plus, lugging all that extra clothing around has got to make you stronger.”
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