the log book
Spring is the season of wood energy.
Last week I had a meeting in a street side coffee shop. At one point, my associate commented as a group of runners passed us, all bundled and geared up for a run in 30-degree weather. She looked longingly and said, “Wow! What a great way to beat the winter doldrums. They must feel great.” The pack had rosy cheeks and bright eyes that made me believe that she was right, except for a pair toward the end of he pack. Their faces did not look happy. She ran with an abnormal gait and he kept swinging one of his arms out to the side as if he was trying to get something off of his shoulder.
Every year around this time, I get SAD.
That's Seasonal Affective Disorder.
It starts around the holidays when it's so easy to get off track. A few extra rest days every week. Then a big attempt to kick it into high gear around the New Year that inevitably ends up leaving me exhausted and unable to maintain the pace I set. By mid January, I'm usually spending most days on my couch, wrapped in a blanket, watching awful reality TV. February just feels like a dark, cold drag, counting the days until I actually want to go outside again.