Run on the Crunchy Stuff!

Dear Winter of 2014, 

My joints hurt; my lower back is sore; I had to use the heating pad on my neck last night; my ankles are clicking again; I'm covered in odd little bruises and scrapes from my knees down; my lips are raw; my shoulder blades are on fire; and I've never been more sure of myself or my body.

To say you have been brutal is obvious and does you a disservice.  To say you have made training for a Spring Marathon excruciating is equally as offensive.  But to say, just between us runners and the toughest of the seasons, that there is a hidden pleasure in the safe and successful completion of a 15 miler on the ice with inches of fresh snow falling and every muscle tense with the potential of a fall, is to share a secret few people will understand. 

It is because of you, Winter, that I've been called everything from "crazy" to "excessive" with my personal favorite, "stupid," lodged firmly in between.  Yes, I've left  the house wearing 3 pairs of socks and 2 pairs of pants with approximately 3-5 shirts, a face mask and 2 pairs of gloves on.  Yes, I've run in a whiteout.  Yes, I've run down long stretches of Kelly Drive where the ice turned out the lights for a while.  Yes, I've run scared of the wind chill, wondering whether my eye lashes would freeze, thinking of smaller, safer loops and imagining the worst possible scenarios miles from my finish line.  But, still I went out.  I owned my fear and used it to propel myself through some of the toughest runs I've encountered in my last 4 years of training.  Through that and those storms full of knee-high snow, slippery and uneven ice, frozen branches and rivers, and resolute darkness, I discovered that while I most certainly am not "stupid," I am pretty damn tough. 

So, I want to thank you, once and for all, for pushing me in a sport I thought I owned and grew complacent in, for pushing me to overcome fears I didn't realize I had, and for pushing me to become a better, more grateful competitor.  Because of you, I know no limits and no fear of the unknown in my training.  Because of you, and the, at times, faith-zapping temperatures, I could only embrace the warmth of the idea that not everyone can run and so every run becomes a blessing. 

And so, I am forever grateful for every frigid mile and the revelation that if you run on the crunchy-looking ice, traction abounds and muscles can relax for a few seconds. 

Thank you again for the crunchy stuff, JC