This spring, as every spring in my memory, a few things have happened. In the usual rite of spring, your humble scribe has emerged from his den and seen his shadow, which has nothing to do with how much longer winter will last, except for my noticing that perhaps the layers that were making me look a little, ahem, fluffy around February were in my skin instead of in my wardrobe. So in an effort to undo all the carbs I stuffed into my face to combat Seasonal Affective Disorder, I’m cleaning up my act: back in the gym, back to early morning runs, and working hard to eat cleaner.