I'll admit it. I'm still in recovery. But every day it gets a little bit easier. After more than 10 years of running with a watch on my arm and driving my routes to get the exact mileage of every run, it's not easy to let go. Sure there are times when I need to focus on that stuff, like when I'm training for a marathon or ultra distance, but early winter isn't one of those times.
Watch or no watch, my motivation usually falters a bit this time of year--winter, before the snow falls. The darkness outside invades me. I want to sleep, not run, and I desperately need my running buddy to get me out the door. Last week she came over for two evening runs after our kids were in bed. It got me through those first snowless winter runs.
But I've turned a corner. Last night we went for a wonderful late night run in several inches of newly fallen snow. No watch. No GPS. Nothing. Not even a log book entry when I got home. The city was silent as few cars ventured out onto the streets. The running trails were not yet plowed, so we hit the streets where the snow, ironically, felt like sand beneath our feet. The run was a celebration of the changing season.
There are times when I think we should pack up and move to Colorado, Utah, or another state with slightly milder temps. Nights like last night, runs like last night's, remind me to be thankful I'm here. Thankful for the snow, thankful for the cold, and thankful for my running buddy. A fellow fit mama. My sister on the run.