Seasons

I went to the track to do intervals again the other day. This fills me with something akin to guilt, I mean, I know I'm not supposed to be running track intervals. I'm not supposed to be doing any intervals, not to mention fast ones. Any skier can tell you that April is for partying, backcountry skiing, bouldering, catching up on schoolwork, or going to the beach some place where the water is warm in April. Not running. Not running fast. I know that my body needs rest, not more hard work.

And yet, I'm drawn to it. I love spring when its still cold, when the air still has that harsh bite to it, because it makes me want to run, as fast as I can. I want to feel my body working, all the parts in unison, breath sucking in the sharp air, with all thoughts in my head overwhelmed by the joy of moving. I want to move my feet under a chill gray sky and drink the wind.

Its over, now. Now we have green grass and spring flowers and birds chirping and eighty degrees this weekend. Next week starts structured training, and from having danced free for a bit, I'm ready for it. To the next ski season, I say, BRING IT! But I'm not going to lose the joy.