There has been a calamity. Well, maybe not a calamity, but a slow creeping distress. Like the way seeping water slowly cracks concrete when it freezes.
My training bug has caught a disease. Well, maybe not a disease, but more of a cold. Like the way a sinus infection can gradually bring you down. This winter started off on a good foot, I was learning to embrace the chill of morning air, and the crunch of snow under my steady beating foot. The inches stacked up and thermometer digits found a friend…the negative symbol.
Minnesota is seeing it’s coldest winter in the last thirty years. I was trying to embrace the change in seasons, and the change in scenery it brought with it, but mother nature decided to mock these attempts. I have traded my running jacket for a treadmill, and the bliss of Felix for a spin bike. Early morning swims mean jumping from the bite of outdoor air to the enveloping chill of pool water, with the burn of chlorine replacing the sleep caught in the corner of my eyes.
This extended, bitter winter has flat out made training difficult. It’s hard to find the freedom in a run with sunrise, or the joy of a fresh breeze whipping past you as the miles tick by on a long bike, when your environment becomes fluorescent lights and stagnant, sweat laden air. My love for triathlon survives by the experience of these activities, and exploring the vitality of my body in doing so. But part of the battle is understanding, and here it is. So I eagerly await for Spring to come and thaw out this frozen land, and when it does I will find triathlon exposed in a half melted snow mound.
My bug has caught a cold, but around the corner I see the cure.