Footprints

by Budd Glassberg

Reprinted with permission from the Zionsville Times Sentinel on January 9, 2008

Cold, Dark Companions

At 5:30 AM it was dark. The temperature had dropped to three degrees Fahrenheit. Jim and his two four legged companions, Georgia and Madison, were already at the park. Jim was stretching as I arrived. He offered a quick “good morning” and we were off to get in four miles before work. The dogs know the routine and lead the way stopping to sniff at the delightful aromas beneath the thin layer of snow. They do not appear to understand how cold it is.

As anticipated, the first bit of conversation surrounded how blasted cold it was. It was followed closely by how many layers we were wearing and the constitution of said layers. I have always contended that there is no such thing as bad weather, only inappropriate clothing. Jim and I each had four layers on top and three on bottom. We both wore wool socks. He went with thick wool mittens, while I went with a thinner mitten and hand warmers. I wore a hood that covered my mouth. Jim wore a standard hat. Both of us have a pair of Puma leather shoes. They have a thin midsole. The flexible sole of the shoe is covered with many rubber spikes that grip the snow and prevent sliding. We were dressed for the weather. Half a mile into the run neither of us noticed the bitter cold.

We ran through the single track dirt trail of Starkey Park. The beauty of the woods decorated in white negated any need for conversation. The quiet of winter was interrupted only by the soft crunch of snow beneath our footsteps. Madison ran her patterns back and forth briefly crossing the trail and then darting in and out of the thicket on either side of us. She always covers ten times the distances that we run. Georgia mostly follows at our heels, occasionally picking up at stick and often ingesting the bark that will eventually find its way onto Jim’s floor later in the day. She will sometimes surge ahead before finding something of interest that delays her long enough for us to pass her once more.

After several moments of relative quiet, Jim wondered how many people would be venturing out on a morning like this. We had only seen a solo runner at the onset of our run coming toward us. I reckoned that most athletes either took the day off, or settled on indoor training on a dreadmill. We had some fun discussing the adventure of bundling up and attempting to blend in with the elements rather than giving in to them. We both agreed that there is a tremendous feeling of accomplishment after successfully completing such a run. It is a feeling that you cannot get on a pleasant day. There is a certain level of pride in taking on the cold and then saying, “Is that all you have?”

After exhausting the topic of how rugged we were and finishing our self congratulations, we headed back to the park entrance discussing more mundane experiences. As we finished the four miles and were about to head back home I had to admit that if Jim and the dogs had not come, I probably would have scuttled my run that morning. Jim confessed that he too would have abandoned the run if I had not shown up.

I have often written about magnificent solo runs that have given me great joy. There are times when you need to be by yourself. It is then that those solo runs are a slice of heaven. But when the elements are harsh and just the thought of facing them alone gives you pause; that is a time when a good friend is indispensable. If alone you would falter, but with another you may both thrive. Companionship makes the cold a little warmer and the dark a little lighter.

Budd Glassberg lives and works in Zionsville and is a 23 year resident of the community. Visit www.runz.com for reprints of all his columns. You can reach him by email at budd@runz.com.