Never mind what any of those damned groundhogs say. It really is just around the corner.

Pretty soon pitchers and catchers will begin trickling in to spring training camps across Florida and Arizona. Most of them, anyway. You'll get a couple of prima donnas grumbling – maybe holding out for a few million more dollars before they grace their team's camp with their presence.

Pitchers and catchers. A sure sign of spring.

They'll be followed by the position players and then, finally, the full-time pinch hitters. (Not one of them will be wearing a Montreal Expos uniform, for the first time in a generation and a half. I'm still in denial over that.)

It's the pitchers and catchers I can relate to, though. They're the endurance guys – the ones who take a physical beating and (normally) want to go the distance. It's no accident that athletes like Roger Clemens and Nolan Ryan remained at the top of their game past the age of 40.

It's the conditioning – the hard work. Kind of like the long distance folks I've gotten to know, chasing that marathon bug that bit me almost three years ago.

Those of us who've set our sights on April races have been at it a while already. Many of us are more than halfway through spring training. Many cold miles on our feet.

Well, some cold miles on mine.

We had a nasty spell here in southern Ontario: when it wasn't cold enough to freeze your electrolytes, the slush and snow made sidewalks and roads too dangerous. Especially for this borderline cinquagenarian. So spring training for me assumed Florida-like temperatures. Indoors at the Y. No wind, no ice, no hills.

Ever try running 25 kilometres on a 200 metre track? Thoughts like "I only need to pass that exit sign 123 more times" float through your head. On the bright side – it's tough to screw up the route and get lost.

One week – 105 kilometres. Every step indoors. Talk about building endurance.

Spring training's also the place to work out the kinks before putting your toe to the starting line – that is if you're paying attention. And a lot of guys – yeah, it's mainly the guys - don't.

As men, we sometimes figure if we ignore something, it'll usually go away. Works with in-laws and stuff around the house that's broken. Well, maybe they don't quite go away, but you get used to whatever it is and it winds up blending in with the background. Becomes the white noise of life.

Last winter, I let the odd twitch and twinge become the white noise of running, until the lower half of my body decided not to work for a day or two. After that, it was weeks of trying to get over a series of injuries. Finally started to improve about a week or so before Boston.

But – hey – I got better. Much better. And there's nothing that makes you forget about pain than running better than you've ever run before. The injury beast had finally been slain. Put to rest, forever.

Maybe, maybe not. He has been stalking several running buddies. Neil's been in the lair of the beast for months – and he's just a puppy. Not even 45 yet. Tony D's emerging from what his doctor said was an injury that would end his running days. He's slowly and tentatively adding miles. Still, the thought that the next step could begin or end with a great big ouch must float through the back of his mind.

About a week ago, I detected a whisper of a grumble deep within my body. Ah, tweren't nothin', I thought. Nothin' that a couple of hard laps couldn't take of.

"You're not listening," my body said. "And last year, you said - no, you promised you would listen to me. Take my concerns into account."

"But we feel so good, body," I insisted.

That didn't sit well. My body decided to sulk. Resisted getting out of bed in the morning. Refused to go to sleep at night. Held back energy when I was out running.

And then the last straw. A six-mile hard run last Friday. A mile into it, body demanded to be heard.

"YOU STILL WON'T LISTEN!!! DON'T YOU REMEMBER POOL RUNNING LAST MARCH!! YOU LOOKED GREAT WITH BOBBING AROUND WITH YOUR DAMNDED WATER WINGS ON TRYING TO RUN UP AND DOWN THE SLOW LANE!!"

So I geared down, coasted for the rest of the run. And eased up on the miles this week. Body's grateful, but still apprehensive. Not sure it trusts me.

It's a fine line between training hard and overtraining. You risk crossing it, if you don't listen to your body.

There's lots of time to get better. Afterall, we're still in spring training.