Inertia and seasons

Guest blogger: Melody Fairchild is an accomplished runner training for the Olympic Trials Marathon in Houston, TX in January 2011.  This is the first of two blogs from Melody. 


As the seasons turn toward the darkest and coldest of them all, and the one we associate with slowing down, my inner-coach is revealing some vulnerability as I wonder if I will slow down too. Fear of failure and reaping what I've sewn are motivators to respond soundly to this vulnerability. After all, I have a marathon to train for. And I've done the hard work of callousing myself to the mileage for a good six weeks now. I'm ready to do twelve weeks of serious training. This means focused, intentional miles and specific workouts to prepare for the pace I need to run.

Some days, as I notice the trees around me grow bare and the days get shorter and colder, I feel "inert." I want to rest like the trees, whose sap will rise again in spring, able to sprout green, dancing leaves. I could be a bear and take a six month nap. The definition from the world of physics for inertia is “the property of matter by which it retains its state of rest, so long as it is not acted upon by an external force." When winter finally takes hold of the earth with the strong grip of a true hard frost, and then a heavy blanket of snow, the inaction of trees and bears are a reminder of the power of going within. Their clear message to the world lets us know that no external force is going to alter their plan for rest and rejuvenation. Mother Nature is so perfectly wise. I will use the strength of those hibernation messages to go within for the next 12 weeks and summon the focus and conviction I need to achieve my running goal.

Often while running on unusually warm days in winter, I get a whiff of air, or hear a sound which takes me time travelling to a warm, spring day. This infuses me with hope and excitement for new beginnings, and extra gratitude for the barrenness I see and feel in winter, knowing what beauty will return in the Spring. Inertia for nature is medicine. Inactivity for part of the year is the secret to its success.

Inertia for a runner is often something we fear and battle. While I would like to be in sync with the trees and the bears, the calendar and my sense of urgency to qualify for the Olympic Trials Marathon with a 2:46 or faster on January 30 in Houston, calls for serious activity right now.