We welcome the change of seasons. Most people who embrace fitness find a way to stay engaged in the winter. Cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, winter hiking, or, if necessary, spending time on a treadmill or an indoor bike trainer.
A gym provides the basic metrics of a workout: increased heart rate and calories burned. For those less interested in data, a sweat-soaked T-shirt provides appropriate evidence.
From mid-March to mid-April, Mother Nature teases us. Fresh snow followed by a stretch of 50º days. Snow, rain, mud. Repeat. Finally, winter lets go, and spring arrives.
Paddlers start “ice out” betting pools to pass the time before getting a canoe or kayak back in the water. Cyclists, road, mountain, or gravel riders search for the latest gear while waiting for trails to open.
Running paths that have been closed since December open again. Those first few runs of the season, emotions run high when rediscovering a favorite route. Our bodies seem to take over, covering the ground on pure muscle memory. The familiar routines of trail running, paddling, and cycling return.
The arrival of spring also brings some reckoning. Plans to run a fall marathon, finish a century ride, or paddle a new stretch of river collide with physical realities. Knees aren’t as fluid, backs hurt, and ankles weaken.
Mother Nature and Father Time are undefeated in the game of physical activity. First, our ability to set a series of personal bests starts to falter. Mid-pack runners slide toward the back of the pack. Cyclists who cranked out Sunday morning century rides settle for metric centuries.
That’s life, right? We can still enjoy our pursuits, just with a little reframing of how we measure success. Before you push this essay off as something that will happen when you reach 60 or 70, physical limits can arrive at any time. Doctors still work wonders with athletes, but our bodies tell us when it’s time to stop.
Dimity McDowell’s book, “The 27th Mile,” describes the author’s journey from a lifelong runner to an injury-plagued athlete forced to give up an activity that gave her life meaning. We’ve published a short Q&A with Dimity to explore the book. For any athlete facing the end of a cherished activity, “The 27th Mile” is definitely a recommended read.
Silent Sports has always covered the activities that we pursue and invites readers to explore new places around the Midwest to enjoy their favorite pastimes. There’s another important topic that needs attention. We need to protect our federal, state parks, and wilderness areas.
Mike McFadzen’s “Wisconsin’s State Parks:An Investment Worth Protecting for All Generations” explores the funding lapses that are putting our parks at risk. Timothy Bauer’s “The Manawa Dam, A Future in Question,” reports on the politics of removing obsolete dams on Wisconsin Rivers. In 2025, McFadzen wrote about wakeboarding legislation and the contentious debate over the Knowles-Nelson Stewardship funding. We’re all watching the mining controversy near the BWCA play out in Congress.
Our lives are full, and personal responsibilities can push political work down the list, but we need to stay informed, active, and engaged. If you want to ski, run, bike, paddle, hike, and camp in Midwestern state parks, make sure your voice is heard.
ldzierzak@formula4media.com
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