March Madness

March is one of my favorite months. Growing up, I always looked forward to my birthday at the end of the month (psst...I still do). In college, it meant spring break and a week off from the perceived torture of engineering school. For the past several years, March has meant that the long, cold Minnesota winter is over and my weekend gardening and yard work projects are just around the corner.

For people like me, however, March is also a month when everything in life pauses to focus on sports. High schools and colleges crown their champions in basketball, hockey, even wrestling, in all levels and classes. Nearly all of it is on television. For a sports fan, it doesn't get much better. In my heart of hearts (as much as I sometimes try to deny it), I'm a sports fan and I've dived headlong into March Madness for as long as I can remember.

As a kid in the small southern Minnesota town of New Ulm, my friends and I raced home from school to watch the state high school basketball tournaments - especially the year our hometown Eagles made the boys' tournament (no, they didn't win). As a freshman at North St. Paul High School, I joined thousands of Polar fans as our hockey team beat their archrivals from hated Hill-Murray and went to state (nope, they didn't win either). And as a sophomore at the University of Minnesota, I followed the Golden Gopher hockey team to the Frozen Four in Providence, Rhode Island and cheered them to...third place. (Hey, it was still a good time.)

But even without a vested personal interest, there is an excitement about watching high school championships and college tournaments (both small and large) at this time of year that is somehow unmatched by fall or spring sports. Perhaps it's because so many of us live in places where we're stuck inside watching games, either in person or on television, for five months and need an outlet for our pent-up enthusiasm. In any case, we watch hundreds of teams and thousands of athletes - many of whom will never pull on a uniform again - putting forth every effort with the hope of raising their hands in victory.

And when any of these teams of young unknowns achieve their goal and hoist the championship trophy, a part of this sports fan feels the excitement and is lifted up, with the belief that success, in any form, is always possible for those who are willing to give of themselves.

In recent years, I've also enjoyed March because it means that I still have a couple of months to go before getting serious about training for the annual Breast Cancer 3-Day, usually held in August or September. Oh, maybe I'll take a short walk around the neighborhood to get some fresh air...if it's a nice day. But that's not training. It's too early for that madness.

A few weeks ago, I took a short walk on a Sunday afternoon. It was a little chilly and there was about a foot of snow on the ground. But the sun was out and I was sitting in the house, bored out of my mind.

The following weekend, I joined a few of my 3-Day teammates for a "kickoff" training walk around a local lake. I wasn't planning on going, but I had been threatened with physical violence if I didn't show up. Besides, it was just a ceremonial thing, not real training. It was still too early for that. I also took a walk on Sunday. I wasn't training; it was just too nice a day to stay inside.

Over the past three weeks, a couple of co-workers have persuaded me to join them to walk over the lunch hour. It's a good excuse to get out of the office, partake in some semi-interesting conversation, and get a little exercise. We've been out walking almost every day.

Okay, I admit it...even with nearly five months to go before the Twin Cities 3-Day, this is starting to feel a little like actual training.

Now that's what I call March Madness.