The best winter running gear is a certain hockey jersey

by Steve Chernoski

Running in Stanley Park. (Feb. 2012)

In the American Northeast, winter isn’t just coming, it’s here. The temperatures have dropped, the warm winds have vanished and Daylight Saving Time is over, meaning the sun goes down before most people leave work.

And as a runner, it’s the season for my routine to change.

During this time, some runners retreat to their treadmills at the gym or in their basements. But some of us choose to remain outside. This involves bundling up: thicker socks, full-length running pants and an extra layer or two for the upper body. Sometimes I’ll put on a knit hat . . . plus running gloves that pick up the inevitable snot resulting from the colder air, along with some chapstick in the pocket.

Winter weather also means I’m usually stuck running in the dark during the week, whether it’s before work or around dinnertime. However, I try to celebrate this change of the season . . . by busting out one of my favorite things: My “Flying V” home Vancouver Canucks hockey jersey.

In Point Roberts. (Feb 2012)

The Flying V jersey can be a contentious issue; some even think it’s one of the worst jerseys of all-time.

But there is some love for it and perhaps there are urbanites, especially in the Pacific Northwest, who feel that running in vintage clothing is a triumph in itself. Retro love aside, there are some very practical reasons this jersey is the best piece of running clothing I’ve ever owned:

It essentially glows in the dark. Since I’m running at night, the bright yellow is a necessary element. It has no emblem on the front. This is what makes it better than the Penguins or LA Kings old yellow home jerseys. Ask a runner about bloody nipples. A crest on the front would make that problem worse; I’ve tried it. It’s a hockey jersey. It’s meant to be sweat in and usually dries better than Under Armour-type of clothing out there. Warm-to-cold versatility. It will keep you warm enough when you start, but as you sweat, it’s not too heavy as to make you feel overly hot.

Winter route: the bridge crossing the Delaware River, looking toward PA.

I live along the Delaware River, and my winter route consists of a run between two US states: New Jersey and Pennsylvania, or as I like to think of it: Devils to Flyers territory. When running, I’ll sometimes hear words of appreciation from random hockey fans walking the local pedestrian bridge. One time, when running near the Finger Lakes in New York State, during the 2011 Stanley Cup Finals, a guy stopped his car, actually got out and nicely yelled “Flying V baby, Flying V. I’m from Vancouver, are you?” To me, it was the most Canadian thing ever, but that’s the power the jersey has.

After Hurricane Sandy, when we had no electricity, I wore the home Flying V & yellow skate jersey around the house at night, so the wife could see me. (Oct 2012)

Vancouver-area runners, I know your winters are milder, but I can still imagine joggers doing the Stanley Park loop in the jersey or even snowboarding during the evening hours on Grouse Mountain with it on. It could build city-wide camaraderie. Until it got old.

But back East, it never will. So once again, I’ll fall back to my winter ritual of bundling up, lacing up and transforming the Flying V into the “Running V.”