The drab, grey, winter morning in Upstate New York was nothing to write home about. As I coasted along the shoulder of the asphalt, I'd sometimes veer over a little onto the two-foot-wide stretch of dirt alongside the campus road. The feel of some dirt underfoot, combined with a little imagination, helped to mentally transport me to some faraway singletrack—away from the cars and the parking lots and the generically designed state office buildings. The daydream would only last a few seconds. Sometimes it was the sudden impact as my feet returned to pavement, and other times it was a 25 mile-per-hour blast of wind to the face, that would snap me back into the present moment. Whatever the reason, I'd find myself back at the University of Albany in the midst of another five-lap jaunt around around the campus roads.
2017 was my fifth time at the Hudson Mohawk Road Runners Winter Marathon, and the first where I was able to wear just shorts and a long-sleeve base layer shirt. Another year, another 26.2 miles around a campus with zero scenery in less-than-ideal running conditions.
Somewhere during the second lap my mind began to wander as I actively searched for a reason why I continued to run this marathon year after year. The only scenery is a bunch of brick buildings and some highway traffic and the occasional a
