Training for a marathon ain't gonna be easy, boy.
Temperatures this week have been low enough to freeze Mercury (both the planet and the element), the roads look like a Zamboni drove over them, and yesterday yet another storm brought more snow, only this time it was lofted by 30 mph winds.
We've already had more snow by this time than we usually get for an ENTIRE YEAR. I haven't seen grass since Thanksgiving, and my new running style looks like I'm constantly running the three-legged race in the county fair, as I'm trying to make sure I don't slip on the 378 patches of ice per mile.
Any lingering thoughts of running in the winter being a romantic, peaceful, thoughtful activity are being crushed under a cold, icy boot, then flash frozen and stored in a meat locker. The pretty sights of smoky rivers, huddling geese and crystalized trees are lost when your sunglasses have frozen over by the first half-mile and you're desperately shaking out your fingers so they don't get frostbite.
I've even turned to my most hated enemy, the treadmill. I loathe treadmills. Running is a chance for me to get outside, to see things I've never seen before and to get some fresh air. It ain't so I can stare at reruns of Oprah on the TV while a machine beeps at me to run faster like a nagging wife. And fresh air is in low supply in a gym, no matter how clean it is. A treadmill turns a run into a workout, something to be endured rather than enjoyed. But I've already used it twice this week.
This will be a lot of work. Just this week, my first week of the plan, I've run more miles than I run when I'm peaking in training for my half marathons. They've mostly been easy miles. But still. Even on my two easy running days, I'm lifting, too.
Still, I have hope. January is the coldest month, and the plan doesn't get too hard until this month is over. I'll survive it until then. The sun came out today. It makes things seem warmer, even if the cold continues to crack tiny fractures in my will.