Where x equals y

As I creep closer to the ripe old age of forty, there are a few things, where running is concerned, that I can shout from the rooftops with great certainty.

First, like fine furniture of the same era, I creek and crack with just the slightest of movements compared to just a few years ago; a condition that seems to worsen in colder temperatures for both the furniture and me.

Second, and along the same lines as my first point, I am no longer indifferent to running in cold weather - I much prefer bodily warmth and dryness before, during, and after a run.

Third, and along the same lines as my second point, I am without question turning into a fair-weather runner; this wouldn't be such a big deal if I lived in a fair-weather region, but I don't, so as my tolerance for running in rain, sleet, snow, drizzle and some of the other stuff my hometown throws at me diminishes, the chances that I skip a run or two will no doubt increase in the years ahead.

Finally, and completely separate from my first three points, being a member of a running club made up of your co-workers brings you closer, a lot closer, to them.

Lately I've been thinking about our club and the way we interact with each other and how our relationships have changed since we all decided to strip down to our skivvies and pound the pavement together. I am a hundred times more in tune with everyone in the club and I have had general, every day conversations about life's little moments and other obscure topics with most members that I would never have with "just a co-worker"; in the past, our conversations would have been limited to financial statements, purchase orders and company policies.

And it's not just that I am getting to know these people better, I feel an almost sibling-like attachment to them and I've found that their health and well-being matters more to me than ever before. When club members get sidelined with injuries, illnesses, or other personal matters, I hope, with great sincerity, that they are able to recover quickly because without them, the group is missing a part of its sum, x doesn't equal y, there's no yin to our yang, our feng is without shui.

We've been challenged, big time, since we started our half marathon training in January, x hasn't equalled y very often. Most of us have been struck down with illness or injury at some point over the past few months, and during the few brief periods when that wasn't plaguing us, the weather has provided a further slap to the group's face. But I'm a great believer that tenaciousness and commitment win out over everything. Stick with it and you'll be rewarded. And that will make crossing the finish line in Halifax that much more special for all of us.

I just hope the weather's warm.

Six more weeks?

I've never been much of a Winter-time runner, in fact, I always used to take the months from December to March, off completely from running. Lately though, I've been enjoying some cold-weather runs so much so, I'm kind of glad Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow.

And while the thought of a longer, colder Winter has at least one of my fellow Running Club members rolling her eyes, I'll state my case for why cold-weather running is as great, if not better, than its summer-time equivalent.

First, I like being able to dress for the cold - as the temperature drops, the number of layers increase until I'm comfortable - if I warm-up, I can take something off. Not true for fair-weather running - as the temperature rises, we run out of things to take off and are then tortured by the heat for the rest of our run only to finish resembling something between steamed broccoli and a cooked lobster.

Second, when you reach back to take a swig from your water bottle in February, your thirst is met with a cold and satisfying treat. In August, the water that has been nearing the boiling point since you started running thirty minutes ago, mixes with your sweaty lips producing warm swamp water, at best - now that's refreshing, not.

But what I find most appealing about Winter running is it's kind of our way of fighting back against the weather gods who seem determined, at times, to keep us in doors. Even after metres of snow, inches of freezing rain and more gale-force winds than Old Man Winter himself thought he could ever muster, we head out for our regular Sunday run. You can huff and puff, but you'll never blow a runner down.

I could go on, but in all honesty, while I'm loving running this Winter, I too look forward to the day I can run once again in shorts and a tee. Maybe it's easiest to say that I just love running.

Now Jill, you can stop rolling your eyes - oh and dress warmly.

The best laid plans

What a great time of year.

There's a buzz among Club members - nothing like setting a goal and laying out a plan to get the running juices flowing again. Just a few nights ago, I was practically gitty while packing my bag with my running gear in anticipation of the start of another training session; that and the fact that I hadn't run in a month and was eager to see how things were going with my body, from an injury point-of-view.

If you know me, you know I'm passionate about running, but passion alone doesn't get you to the starting line, discipline does. This will be my fourth attempt at training for a half marathon, the first three cut short by injuries of one form or another. I think I've done everything right this time and in a blog not so long ago, I made a commitment to being smart and getting in shape to start training for the May event. Let's review the checklist:

Take it slow. I will get back to form by taking it slow, never wimping out, but never overdoing it.

Check. Stopped running for a month to nurse an injured calf muscle; even gave up playing hockey, this is serious.

Lose weight. I will lose 30 pounds between now and the Halifax Half in May 2008. I will accomplish this by eating smart and exercising smarter. A smaller gut means less stress on my wonky lower back.

Check. Twenty-two pounds gone, eight more to go. Actually going to go for forty, so, eighteen more to go.

Have fun. I will enjoy every foot-strike while I am able, because I know how lousy it feels to watch from the sidelines, or worse, stare at the ceiling.

Check. This is never a problem but my usual feelings of euphoria have been intensified by being able to get back out with the group.

I've done my part, now its up to the running gods. Nobody knows how the future will unfold, all we can do is take it one foot-strike at a time. But boy it's great to able to take those foot-strikes again.

Destination: Halifax.