As winter drags on with no end in sight, how do we keep hope alive?

Winter. I’m over it.

Whatever whimsy or curiosity or snowy wonder lingered on past Christmas and into January has been beaten down and snuffed out. In Michigan, we’ve endured snow storms, ice storms, sudden thaws, deep freezes, the Polar Vortex™, and a litany of ‘wintry mixes’ — whatever that means.

My school district has been closed a whopping ten days this winter, which is about five days fewer than the poor souls up in Grand Rapids who lived through a bonus ice storm that veered just north of I-96 and spared the Kalamazoo region.

If you’ve been following my blog this season, you’ve read my complaints and gripes and occasional triumphs of the human spirit and/or downright stupidity (running an outdoor 10k when the windchill dropped to -45°). I don’t mean to bore you with another post about why winter running is terrible or terribly awesome, because it’s really neither. It’s not a good thing or a bad thing. It just is.

At this stage of February, running becomes a psychological Möbius strip, an endless loop of white nothingness with no discernible destination or conclusion and definitely no temperatures higher than a balmy 32°. To paraphrase the immortal Phil Connors from the film Groundhog Day, winter is going to be cold, it’s going to be dark, and it’s going to last for the rest of your lives.

It’s a hard time to be a Michigander. Even if you love the snow and being outside in these absurd conditions, February wears you down. I’ve been able to keep my mileage up, but I’d be lying if I said I felt any real motivation toward running right now. I feel slow, sore, and tired. I’ve lost a few pounds since the new year, but I feel like I’m carrying extra weight, especially in my slow movin’ legs. These days the struggle to crack a nine minute mile is palpable.

I’ve slipped and fallen on the impossibly hard ice at least three times this winter. Each one more infuriating than the last. I apologize to all of the early morning dog-walkers in our neighborhood who’ve been subjected to my profanity-laced tirades as I writhe on the ground and curse the ice and the winter and that lying bastard weather man.

This Sunday I will participate in the Portage Winter Blast Half-Marathon  for the third consecutive year. Training for Winter Blast is challenging, for obvious meteorological reasons. 2017 brought insanely cold temperatures, while 2018 was all about the wind and rain. This year calls for temps in the mid-40s, but “dangerously high winds” are also forecast. Anytime the word “dangerously” is spelled out clearly in the forecast, you know you’re in for a good time. I’m not exactly excited for this one, but it’s something I’ve gotta do.

My weekend long runs have been strong, although I’ve had to get creative with my routes to find some semblance of traction, or even (could it be?) dry roads. On Sunday, I ran the two-mile loop at WMU’s Parkview Engineering campus a mind-numbing five times. When the snow’s too deep, I’ll take things inside. When we got the latest blast of lake effect snow, I ran eight miles on the indoor track at Bronson Athletic Club — 64 laps. Woof.

I really can’t complain, though. My good friend Andee Sampley has me beat — on Saturday she ran 16 miles on the dreadmill. Oh, the humanity!

So the question remains: how do we find hope in February? Clearly, for me at least, running is not the solution but a means to an end. No, to combat the darkness and the cold and the snow and the short days and the icy roads and every other little horrible thing associated with deep winter, I find comfort in FABRUARY.

My wife and a few of her friends invented Fabruary a few years ago and actually look forward to this god forsaken month. Essentially, they look for at least one fun, out of the ordinary thing to do every day of the month. If you’re a Parks & Rec fan, it’s like stretching out the “Treat Yo Self” mantra for 28 (or 29, ugh.) consecutive days.

Over the past 21 days, we’ve explored many of the hidden natural gems of the Southwest Michigan Land Conservancy, fed owls, traveled to Frankenmuth, eaten delicious pizza, drank excellent craft beer and fine wine, consumed less-than excellent Valentine’s day candy, and attended Monday Night Raw — OK, that last one was just me, but I had a fourth-row ticket. Too Sweet.

The moral of the story, on this running blog of all places, is sometimes the things we love most in the world (for me, running) may not be enough to sustain our joy or attention or motivation. And that is totally normal. I’ve run every single day for years. Not every run is going to be an Instagram-worthy prance down the trail of wonder. No, a lot of times it sucks. Plain and simple. That’s when something like Fabruary can help.

When the weather is atrocious, and there’s no end in sight, you’ve got to find ways to bring the light back into your life. There’s no sense in waiting for the warmth to return, because, if you live in a place like Michigan, you’ve got a lot of waiting to do.

Good luck keeping the flame alive. Don’t let winter win.

Happy Running.