Team days were over, club days were in:

That was the new motto I had created for myself when I finally chose to pick myself up by my bootstraps and envision this new club lifestyle. It was a damn good motto - I remember it turning into a daily mantra. Team days were over, club days were in... Over and over. A family member may have to fact-check me, but I believe I had it written on a poster in my childhood bedroom. As with any sport, teamwork is the center of great moments, achievements, and goal-setting. I needed a team, a club team.

You will often find me running with my phone, I enjoy capturing photos such as this one. My best amateur photos have been taken mid-run. Unsure of date, possibly 2016, in Kettering, Ohio. 

The first club group run I had researched and planned on joining, I was unusually nervous. I never enjoyed small talk and quick introductions, but I knew this was necessary to fall into those natural long-run, life-changing, existential deep conversations we all experience with strangers on long runs. (Isn’t it fascinating how one can become lifelong friends with a running partner after a few of these long run discussions?). Nevertheless, I kept over-evaluating and anticipating the run: Will the pace be too fast? Will the pace be too slow? Can the awkward introductions just be bypassed? It is comical to look back and remember the details, but my running was 95% mental and as a young 20-year old I had a lot of maturing left in me. 

It was the thick of winter which I distinctly remember as being very cold and riddled with snowstorms. It is particularly hard to forget that year because I was running 65-70 miles per week training for a spring marathon and hence, the blistering winter of 2013 will always be a strong memory. I drove up to the Duck Pond in Rochester Hills, MI and decided to watch from afar, quite possibly from behind my car and chose to avoid the “first day” introductions by trailing from a distance. Somehow, week after week, I spent many Saturdays “meeting” this group in this distant way. Despite my awkwardness and avoidance of running with them, I was amazed that this group showed up every Saturday at eight a.m. whether it rained, snowed or resulted in poor footing. That was one dedicated group of club runners for the winter of 2013. 

I never did end up running with the Duck Pond group despite following them every weekend for my marathon build up. Instead, I ended up falling in love with this weekly long run because of the natural beauty and rugged, hilly, dirt roads. I never looked forward to a long run as much as this particular loop. Those Saturday 16-milers became my weekly therapy session and I would finish feeling recharged and ready to tackle the upcoming week. 

The extreme outdoor elements combined with running have always been a meditative source for me. There is a badassery in fighting the elements of a cold winter or humid summer. But this particular year I remember the sting of cold against my cheek, the burn in my thighs, the frolicking deer and the crisp, crunch under my feet as hypnotic. Winter running always left my legs feeling stiff, springy and strong. Most runners will often tell you their highest mileage is the summer months, but it has always been the opposite for me. There is magic in the deafening silence of falling snow. 

By the way, this is one of the best 16-milers in Rochester Hills, MI. Map and elevation attached below. Rolling hills and dirt roads are good for the soul. 

Once again, despite never joining the group run, I would show up at eight a.m. because the mere thought of others being up and running that early in the blistering cold was enough energy to get myself out the door. If they could do it, so could I. The beautiful, snowy winter of 2013 and the dirt road scenery were key to my success. I was at a point in my life, where I could dedicate hours to planning, traveling and executing scenic running routes. Every single day was a gift, and hence every single run ought to have a good scenic route. I noticed that certain routes would make or break the attitude of that run. Long, hilly, dirt roads were good for falling into a strong long run or tempo pace, whereas stop-light riddled city runs were fantastic for recovery days. There is a beauty in every style of run. After all, this is what makes our sport the best, right?

So, in this unusual, odd, time in our lives - make every day extra special. Throw in some trails, run a route in reverse, buy that windbreaker in your check out cart, run while the world sleeps, enjoy that stinging breeze up your low back. Make it count. 

Cooling off in the snow after a moderate mid-week long run at my parents home in Shelby Township, MI. I am unsure of the date, possibly 2014. I was admiring this tree that was just a sapling when I planted it in 1997. It has since been cut down by the township.