Spring

The first stirrings of spring are making themselves felt, despite the 2 feet of snow on lawns. Our Japanese peonies, sheltered in the garage each winter, are beginning their annual early season bud. Peanut, the adopted chihuahua, is getting independent and frisky, a far cry from his usual vernal lethargic state. During my 22-miler this morning, the mockingbirds were taking posts at the very tops of trees to announce their respective territories. As an outdoor runner, I welcome relief from bone-crunching -3F wind chills. I know that, in only the third week of February, announcing the arrival of spring is setting oneself up for chilly dissappointment.

Sunshine

We got 5 feet of snow 2 weeks ago. That was 60 treadmill miles ago. Today, the snow had receded sufficiently from the roads' centers to allow us to run reasonably safely in daylight. Running under the open, blue sky was an emotional relief despite the 27 F windchill.

I am an all-weather outdoor runner. However, I will not run in the dark on roads narrowed in many places to one lane for safety reasons. I believe that spending as much time outdoors in the ebb and flow of the days and seasons makes you not only a tougher runner but a better person. Studies suggest that lack of exposure to early morning blue light throws human circadian rhythm. Vitamin D deficiency and depression are likewise associated with insufficient sunlight exposure. We understand the life-giving properties of the sun, and even moon, from a physiological perspective.

I suspect cutting the umbilical cord to nature's rhythms causes a litany of other issues too long to enumerate. The list of medical, psychological, and social ills associated with substituting sun, moon, and star with glowing LCD screens grows with each year. The act of performing moderately intense physical effort, despite the weather conditions, not only cleanses and toughens. It recalls human genetic past and thus fulfills a basic human prerequisite for quality of life.

Vause Vignette

Its 7:00. Denise is on the treadmill, at 2.8 miles. She's watching our DVD of Nova's "Marathon Challenge" documentary. I've been down in the gym since 4:45 AM. I ran 1 mile warm up and did a barbell workout.

The Marine Corps Run to Register, the Chicago Half Marathon, the Wineglass Marathon, and the 35th MCM all loom before us, motivating us.

She's just finished another 3 miles on the treadmill. This is very challenging to her: she hates running indoors. The roads are still narrowed by snow and unsafe for pre-dawn running.

The documentary has reached the point where the participants are lining up to their journeys of self discovery running from Hopkinton to Boston, my obsession. To her credit, she supports my conviction in the absolute necessity for me to one day qualify and run that famous race.

Our gym is treadmill, weights, running-related DVDs, an MCM space blanket posing as a poster, completion certificates, and finisher medals hanging from the squatting cage. Some years ago, Denise made a little sign with the image of a winged running shoe and the words "Caution! You are entering.... the Brain Wash Zone!"

Soon our workdays begin, but only after our morning devotional to health and sanity.

Respect

In my last marathons, hitting my limit has meant leg muscle cramping rather than the exhaustion of the Wall. I was beginning to think that all the miles and the training at lower carbohydrate replenishment levels had made me immune to this famous marathon malady. It was this hubris that let me to insufficiently prepare on Saturday for my 20 miler the next day. Admittedly, 20 miles on a treadmill is going to have its own effects on the mind. The roads are still treacherous and, with traffic, an open invitation to an accident. So I loaded up my iPod Classic with 7.7 hours of music and pounded the treadmill. Around mile 16, I began to smell my family's breakfast cooking in the kitchen, wafted down through the heating vents.

At mile 18, I pretty much hit the Wall. It is becoming so tired that any and every movement is exhausting. I clawed through the last two miles, grateful that I had not planned a 21-miler for that day. I managed to hold pace and finished at the 'easy pace' I had planned for the entire run.

I don't mind hitting the Wall. It is extremely unpleasant, but it is the ultimate instruction to the body to conserve carbohydrates and use as much fat reserves as early as possible in the run to survive the distance. This is all part of the long evolution over the years of training to become a faster distance athlete.