COLD
Friday, February 02, 2007
When I moved here after four years in Marquette, Michigan, I scoffed at Madisonians' reports of winter weather.
Snow? Marquette gets more than ten feet a year on average (It's the second-most "snowiest city" in the country). It starts coming down in October and still dots the beaches in May (I wasn't at all surprised one warm spring day to see sunbathers in bikinis sharing a beach with snowbanks). One winter, I had to have my car towed (read: unstuck) six different times. Three were right in my own driveway.
Cold? Marquette is the fourth-coldest city in the country. January averages have been known to hover right around five degrees. In Marquette, you huddle under over sized wool sweaters, wear boots, and try your damnedest to score an apartment with a fireplace, not because any of these things are cute or trendy, but because otherwise, you'll literally freeze your ass off.
Despite all of this, people in Marquette are among the most active -- year round -- whom I've ever seen. They snowshoe, cross-country and downhill ski, skijor, and run...no matter what the weather is like.
It was there that I learned the value of good (read: weather appropriate) running clothes and developed a true love of snowshoeing and winter running.
Strange, but true. The worse the winter weather is, the more I seem to want to be out in it. There's just something about running past houses where people are huddled safe and warm inside. It's a braving-the-elements sort of thing. One that delivers a punch of accomplishment and sticktuitiveness. On days like that, there's nothing like a look from a passing motorist cast in your direction that says, "You crazy, crazy fool. What are you doing outside in this?" and at the same time, "I could/would never do that."
But today in Madison, it's a special kind of cold out -- the kind that makes your nostrils freeze together. The kind that makes your teeth ache and your legs go numb lest they're covered in Carhart. The kind of cold that the winds whipping off Lake Superior dish out to Marquette only once in a while.
It's hard to remember, on days like today, how the sun could possibly feel too hot on your skin. It's hard to look out over Lake Monona and believe that just four months from now, the frozen sheet of ice covering it and the mini-city of bundled-up men with their shanties and poles will give way to warm, lapping water, swimmers, and boaters. It's hard to imagine running in a tank top and shorts.
Such is the miracle of midwest living. Four true seasons. Weather ranging from the unbearably cold to the excrutiatingly hot, and all of the sublime days that fall in between.
Proust said that "A change in the weather is sufficient to recreate the world and ourselves." For me, spring begets hope in the purest possible sense. Summer's warmth makes every day feel like vacation. Fall invokes the need for family and hunkering down. And frigid winter days build character. Much like brussell sprouts or a 20-mile run, these cold days are not something you look forward to or wish for. After the fact, though, you survive and you are proud.
And if you're anything like me, not too proud to hop on the treadmill.
Posted by Erin 8:30 AM
Hey there, it's your long lost college roommate. I have to say, I LOVE reading your blog entries. Your way with words simply amazes me...always has. What I wouldn't give to have your talent, sure would make these presentations I'm working on a whole lot easier!! Again, I commend you for all your hard work. This winter Dave and I joined a gym, a REALLY nice gym. I haven't been outside running since. But like you say in your post on Feb 2 - there's something about being that crazy runner that makes you so proud of being out there. I'm getting the itch - that strong desire to just get out there, feel your lungs burn, your cheeks freeze and talk funny when you get home because your mouth is frozen. I love it. I need to do it tomorrow. I'll be thinking of you while I'm out there. Run on dear friend, Love, Jamie