I am somewhat surprised at how excited I was to get out to run this afternoon. With the cooling temperatures, my typical m.o. is to fight the urge to climb under a blanket and take an ill-advised nap after work.
Not that I don't stay excited about running during the days. Quite the contrary; while at work it seems to consume my thoughts, leaving me pining for "the fix."
However, much to my chagrin (usually...), by the time I've made my 15 minute drive from my office to change, the weight of the day has usually begun to hit, leaving me to fight the mental battle. Ironically enough, the mere act of waging the internal war is usually the first act of surrender; paradoxically, not showing up to fight (i.e., not thinking about it) is typically the best way to get out the door for that first, and often most difficult, step. Once this has been accomplished, the rest is usually a breeze.
Today, for whatever reason, I was as excited about the run when I pulled my bright blue road shoes out of the truck into the cold air as I was sitting in front of a computer screen 2 hours prior.
This bodes well, I hope.
For all to often, Winter brings the aforementioned trickery of the mind. It's a time when we've got to remember what we know deep down as runners. The immediate discomfort, cold, tired feelings are, more often than not, simply false alarms, another manifestation of the weakness we are eternally seeking to purge from ourselves.
We know how to push past it. We understand how it works. We simply need to act on that instinct.
If, as students of this eccentric activity, we can manage ourselves in such less than convenient conditions, then we'll emerge in the springtime that much more fit, ready to race, ready to push that much harder, and ready to enjoy it all the more.
...of course, all that being said, maybe the true mark of success in this situation is learning to "enjoy it all the more" while the nip is still in the air...