On any mid-January evening, Bertha sets down her hot cocoa, remembering she has a spring race to train for. She opens her phone to check the week’s forecast and cringes. Eighteen miles in THAT?!
In past years, my spring race training has found me drop-kicking Bertha and angrily pounding out a run on the treadmill. Oh I’ve tried all of the Treadmill Tips of the Week and I’ve stockpiled shows and movies and podcasts to keep me sane. I’ve done ladder workouts and “speed play” and have written motivational messages on a chalkboard by my ‘mill. I’ve survived, but I’ve rarely enjoyed it. I pounded out the miles and I grimaced every time I looked at the weather forecast.
This year has been a little different though; Bertha has been pretty quiet about the frigid forecasts allowing me to embrace the weather I once dreaded. And I am having a blast. How did this giant change of heart come to be?