Running in Extreme Cold: What Day 2036 Taught Me About Preparation, Endurance and Knowing Your Limits

Today was one of those mornings where everything conspired to make the run feel harder than it needed to be. Day 2036 of my daily running streak. Five kilometres. A feels-like temperature of minus three degrees. A broken foot still in recovery. And barefoot-style footwear on one foot that offers next to no insulation against the cold.

If I'm being honest, it was pretty grim out there.

My voice was sluggish, my fingers were borderline painful inside what I'd considered decent gloves, and my feet — particularly my left foot in the Vibram V-Run — were taking an absolute hammering from the cold. Because I'm still recovering and moving at a slow jog and power walk rather than a proper running pace, I wasn't generating enough body heat to compensate. That's the thing people don't always factor in: the slower you move in extreme cold, the less heat your body produces, and the more exposed you become.

So today I want to share what I've learnt across 2036 consecutive days of outdoor running about exercising in extreme cold. Not theory. Lived experience.

The first thing I'd say is timing. If you have the flexibility to choose when you head out, pick the warmest part of the day in winter. Minus three at dawn in the UK is a damp, encompassing cold. It seeps in. It's not like a sharp, dry mountain cold — it wraps around you and works its way through everything. If you can go out at midday instead of 6am, do it. That small shift can make a meaningful difference to how manageable the session feels.

The second consideration is intensity. When it's extremely cold, a higher intensity effort helps your body generate more internal heat. This is straightforward physiology. The problem for me today was that my recovery doesn't permit a higher pace. I was stuck in that uncomfortable middle ground — moving, but not fast enough to warm up properly. If you're healthy and not carrying an injury, push the pace in extreme cold rather than plodding. You'll feel better for it within the first ten minutes.

The third thing — and this matters more than most people give it credit for — is clothing. Not just any clothing, but the right technical layers for cold-weather exercise specifically. There's a real difference between cool-skin thermal wear and warm-skin thermal wear, and it's worth understanding which you need for the conditions you're heading into. The science in modern sports clothing is genuinely impressive. The right warm-skin base layer will keep your core temperature up while still allowing your body to breathe and wick away moisture as you build a sweat. That dual function is critical. If your layer traps sweat without breathing, you'll end up cold and damp — which is far worse than just cold.

The fourth point is the one most people treat as an afterthought: the extremities. Your toes, your fingers, your ears, your face. These are the parts that feel the cold first and most acutely, and they're the parts people under-invest in when putting their kit together. Your core will warm up as you move — your body is good at protecting your vital organs. But the tips of your body are always last in the queue for warmth. Today I felt this clearly. My core was fine. My fingers were painful. My feet — especially in the barefoot-style footwear — were suffering. Invest in genuinely good gloves, thermal running socks, a hat or ear covers, and a snood or buff for your face. These items are not luxury extras. In serious cold, they're necessities.

And finally, there's something to be said for simply finding a rhythm and enduring. Not every run is going to feel good. Not every session in extreme conditions is going to be managed perfectly, especially when recovery from injury is already limiting your options. What matters is getting your breathing settled, finding a pace you can sustain, and making the best of difficult circumstances. Today I passed a man out there in shorts. Fair play to him. I was wrapped up and still cold. But we were both out there, moving, getting it done.

I've been doing this for 2036 consecutive days now. That's not a number I mention for effect — it's simply the context for why cold-weather running is something I've had to get genuinely good at managing. There have been mornings far harder than today. There will be more ahead.

The bigger picture for me is always the 40,075 kilometres. That's a lap of the Earth's circumference. I'm currently at 20,360 kilometres, which means I have 19,715 kilometres still to cover, one day at a time. Every session — including the cold, painful, slow ones — counts towards that total. And every kilometre covered is part of the reason I keep going: raising £1 million for children's causes, primarily Great Ormond Street Hospital and BBC Children in Need.

The children who need that support don't get a day off because it's cold. So neither do I.

If you're someone who exercises outdoors through the winter months, I hope some of what I've shared today is genuinely useful. You don't need to be chasing a world record or a fundraising target to take cold-weather preparation seriously. You just need to respect the conditions, invest in the right kit, and build the habit of going out anyway.

That consistency — showing up when it's uncomfortable, when it's cold, when your body isn't at its best — is what compounds over time into something meaningful.

Today was day 2036. I'll see you tomorrow.