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The Guardian - US
The Guardian - US
World
Josiah Hesse in Denver

Running in America’s worst air: ‘Like binging on a carton of cigarettes’

a side-by-side image of hazy skies along a cityscape and people running
Runners in areas like Denver, Colorado, check the Air Quality Index daily – especially in the summer months. Composite: AP, Getty Images

Outdoor runners have always had a lot of data to juggle: their pace, heart-rate, mileage, route, calories, weather and much more. Though in recent years there’s been a new, considerably more ominous data point for alfresco athletes to monitor: the Air Quality Index (AQI).

The index, which measures the level of air pollution at any given time and location, is an increasingly necessary tool for outdoor enthusiasts in the age of climate change.

“If you’re a mountain runner, you’re checking the AQI daily,” says Avery Collins, a professional ultra-marathoner who lives in Silverton, Colorado. “Especially in the month of August.”

Denver, Colorado, where I live, is known as one of the fittest, healthiest places in the US, attracting a lot of runners, hikers, cyclists and climbers. I moved here from Iowa 20 years ago and have been an avid runner in the city and mountains for more than a decade.

But Denver also often has the worst air pollution in the country, and sometimes the most polluted of any international city in the world, thanks to a perfect storm of factors that, throughout much of the summer, make the city unhealthy to exercise in. The natural “runner’s high” that I – and scores of other Denver runners – pursue, can be tainted when breathing deeply in polluted air, leaving my lungs heavy, throat scorched and head dizzy, like I just spent the last hour sucking on the tailpipe of a big-rig truck.

This is, in part, due to the wildfires currently blazing around nearly half of North America. But it’s also a larger and more structural environmental problem that goes back further than this summer alone.

A meteorological phenomenon called the “inversion effect” (where cold air on the ground gets trapped by a layer of warm air above it) prevents Denver air pollution from drifting into the sky, which wasn’t as much of a problem before Denver’s population boom led to stagnant traffic jams. Forest fire smoke also gets trapped, blanketing the city in a thick fog, turning the sun orange and the nearby mountains invisible.

And the nearby Suncor oil refinery just last week agreed to a $10.5m settlement with Colorado for spewing illegal pollutants into the air, the largest environmental fine in state history.

I hate running on treadmills – especially when some of the best parks in the US are right outside my door – but throughout much of the summer I am greeted by an Air Quality Alert on my iPhone every morning, and then have a difficult choice to make.

Running in Denver – especially during wildfire season – often leaves me with a sore throat, headache, dizziness and brain fog. I haven’t had a cigarette in eight years, but feel like I binged a whole carton after running through the Mars-like orange haze of the city during an Air Quality Alert.

While some pro runners like Avery Collins say the Air Quality Index is essential for training (opting for a treadmill run or another indoor workout on bad days), a few Denver runners I spoke with would rather not let air pollution stop them from enjoying their run.

“In these times, you have to pick your poison,” says Kelly Waldo, who runs about 25-30 miles (40-48km) in Denver each week. “I am aware of [the air pollution], but I still just put my shoes on and get after it.”

Waldo adds that he had bronchitis as a kid, and does sometimes get headaches after a long run. While he doesn’t check the AQI, he does keep his runs at 5am, before the morning rush hour begins.

“You can see how polluted it is, especially in the last 10 years,” Waldo says. “It’s mind-boggling that we rank up there with India. But who wants to run on a treadmill?”

“I don’t think about air quality,” says Frank Anello, a Denver ultramarathon runner who just completed a 200-mile race through the mountains. “I don’t care. Nothing’s gonna stop me from running.”

Studies have shown air pollution to have a negative effect on athletic performance – both physically and mentally – as well as a number of health risks (such as lung cancer, cardiovascular disease, respiratory issues and even dementia), according to the Environmental Protection Agency and American Lung Association, which recommend limiting outdoor activity when an Air Quality Alert has been announced.

“I have such a crazy addiction to running, I can’t be concerned with air quality,” says Anello. “Same with blizzards or downpouring rain, freezing cold or blistering heat – I’m getting my miles.”

I can relate to Anello who, like myself, struggled with addictions to a variety of substances years ago, and found running to be a less destructive way to deal with those madcap impulses.

I wrote a book on this topic a few years back, and spoke with a variety of ultra-runners who hoofed thousands of miles not for the health benefits, or in pursuit of physical beauty or a longer lifespan, but because it got them off drugs and alcohol. “This is the new way to live crazy,” one of them told me.

Running through toxic air – and dealing with the physical side effects – is certainly crazy, but that’s the mentality of a hardcore runner. Nothing will stand between us and a runner’s high.

So even though my iPhone attempts to grab my attention with an Air Quality Alert – and the Rocky mountains, typically visible from my balcony window, are shrouded in a London-esque fog – I too lace up my shoes and, like Kelly Waldo, “get after it”.

Denver officials have pointed toward plans on the horizon to tackle air pollution, including stricter controls on pollutants like benzene, but those won’t make a difference anytime soon.

In the meantime, I jog through the sulfur dioxide, carbon monoxide and hydrogen sulfide spewed out by the Suncor refinery. Through polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons from the wildfire smoke. Through the nitrogen dioxide, benzene and formaldehyde emanating from rush-hour traffic.

I know I’ll be paying for this – both in the short and long term – but it still beats a treadmill. Or, even worse, even more unthinkable, no run at all.

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