Spring Cleaning

Not long ago, I promised myself that I'd spend the first rainy weekend day after the Boston Marathon thoroughly reviewing the contents of my room. Last Saturday, waking to the sound of gentle rain, I knew that it was going to be a long day... and hoped that it would be a productive one, as I didn't want to lose any subsequent lovely weather to the task that lay before me.

Sorting paperwork

After a refreshing morning run and some pleasant breakfast conversation with my brothers, I headed upstairs to undertake the first (and hardest) phase of the project: my desk. One drawer at a time, all kinds of paperwork, envelopes, folders, and similar items were spread out on the floor... one pile for discards, many others for reclassifying the material that I'd keep. A few hours later, my carpet was clear of debris, my desk drawers were neatly closed, and I'd carried more than 15 pounds of paper to the shredder bin or the recycling bucket.

Clothes for donation

I spent the afternoon going through my clothes, thinning out a wardrobe that has seen me through four distinct seasons for the past four years in New England. I didn't diminish its scope, yet I did narrow its variety, culling enough items to fill two hefty plastic bags with a range of attire suited to Worcester's broad range of weather. The next morning, I heaved them into a donation bin adjacent to the city's freight rail yard, completing the process of spring cleaning.

During the course of the day, a number of my brothers passed by my open door and commented upon my progress. One offered simple advice– "When in doubt, toss it!"– while another inquired wittily, "When's the yard sale?" Many stopped to chat across the threshold for a minute or so, some commenting on their own practice of periodically reviewing and thinning their possessions. When it came time to relax with the brethren before dinner, I felt a certain lightness, yet also a renewed sense of rootedness. Discarding so much paper and so many clothes gave me greater peace about the feasibility and smoothness of an upcoming move, but also reminded me that I'd much rather focus on the immaterial possessions that are genuine treasures– particularly the relationships of brotherhood that exist in my community and lend so much support and joy to my days. With notably less in my room, I'll hopefully be more apt to regularly appreciate those gifts that aren't possessed or owned, yet held with great care and devotion.

Spring Training

In the weeks since the Boston Marathon, I've been attending not only to my emotional and psychological recovery, but also to my physical recovery. Particularly amid a stretch of delightful spring weather, I've been finding joy in simply getting outside to exercise for the sake of relishing the gift of fitness and the blessing of each new morning. At the same time, in giving myself a break from running, I've embraced the freedom to indulge in other activities.

Spring cleaning the road bike

My Trek 1500... 15+ years old and still going strong!

The spell of mild, dry days has been marvelous for cycling. During my first ride of the season, on some lovely rural roads in towns north of Worcester, my friends and I noted with great admiration the efforts of various highway workers who had cleared the shoulders of leftover sand and grit from the winter, exposing the pristine blacktop that cyclists love. The gift of a smooth ride allowed us to savor the radiant beauty of tranquil marshes, forests awash with budding trees, and verdant fields– even the one at the top of a long hill, which advertised from afar freshly its freshly manured state as we sought to filter oxygen from odor while cranking up a steady grade.

Glencliff Trail, Mt. Moosilauke
Benton NH

Mt. Moosilauke summit (4,802 feet)
Benton NH

My spring training isn't entirely without purpose; it's been my practice for a few years to have a specific post-marathon goal in my calendar before I get to the starting line. This time around, it's an early June trip with friends (a repeat expedition for me) to Maine's Baxter State Park and a hike to the summit of Mount Katahdin, weather and wits permitting. As a warmup, while in New Hampshire the other weekend for a conference at Dartmouth, I was able to round up some friends for a hike up Mount Moosilauke. It was the season-opening hike for each of us, and as we discovered when we encountered 6 to 12 inches of packed snow on the trail's upper reaches, we were perhaps starting the season a bit early. Our strident efforts, collectively assessed every 20 minutes or so for their level of safety and sanity, paid off; clear skies in all directions from the peak afforded us views that stretched from the Green Mountains to southern Quebec to Mount Washington, the White Mountains, and Lake Winnipesaukee– more than 20,000 square miles of valleys, lakes, hills, and mountains.

Greenough Boulevard path
Watertown MA

Greenough Boulevard path
Watertown MA

The fitness that my friends and I have chosen to cultivate and share makes our adventures on the roads and trails possible, but we wouldn't be as drawn to the outdoors if it weren't for the real stars of the spring training season– the flora returning to life after a long winter. These daffodils along the Charles River are a short walk or drive from anywhere in the towns on Boston's western edge, and the only training needed to enjoy them is an ability and motivation to simply notice them. In my case, it took a conscious decision to park my car nearby (I was running early for a meeting), settle on a bench, and take in this charming spring scene. Mountaintops may be far less accessible, and cycling far more exhilarating in its rush of speed, but literally stopping to smell and gaze upon these flowers was just as rewarding as any peak I might gain or bend I might round.

May your spring be a blessed season, whatever training you might undertake.