I went into Lent thinking I would make an effort to spend more time writing here, and instead ended up with a couple grueling 70 hour work weeks and a bad cold and a grant with a fast approaching deadline. That didn’t keep me from writing a few blogs in my head, and as I am currently at a stopping point in the grant (until I get back to work tomorrow), I thought I’d take the opportunity to put those half-thought-of blog posts – or what I can remember of them – on paper. They won’t be particularly chronological, but they’ll be written down, and I’ll set them to automatically publish every few days or so – otherwise the ending flurry of grant writing would surely delay them further…
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She was coming toward me in a full sprint, arms pumping, long, wavy, deep auburn hair trailing behind her, a look of total delight on her face. Her little legs weren’t carrying her far with each step, but she was clearly putting every ounce of energy into each one, finding joy in the simple feeling of running without the wind freezing your face off, without the weight of a winter jacket, without worrying about slipping on a patch of ice.
It was the first glimpse of spring – glimpse being the operative word, given the weather to come – and people were out on the greenway in full force. Runners, bikers, families with strollers, couples with dogs – no one could resist the blue skies and temperate weather. Sure, you might need long sleeves, but no coat! No hat! No gloves! And SUNLIGHT. We were a mess of sun-starved, pale, squinty people.
For me, it was the lull between two crazy work weeks, the eye of the storm, and my first outdoor run in I couldn’t remember how long. I am a big wimp about running in winter weather – have treadmill, will use it. So I was trying to pace myself, remember what my “comfortable” outdoor stride felt like, prevent injuries.
In the end, I gave up, because running as fast as felt good was irresistible. So I ran, pretended like I didn’t feel the shin splints sneaking up my leg, pretended like my endurance was still as good as it was during marathon training, pretended like I had been well-rested the entire week.
And when I passed that little girl, with her hair flying out behind her and the look of sheer joy on her face, I thought for an instant that I was running past some magical kind of mirror.
The next weeks were still hard. It got cold again. It snowed and I died a little inside. But I kept coming back to the image of that little girl, and remembered: spring has come. It will come again.
Quote for the day:
“When I run I feel your pleasure
Your wings fixed upon my back
When I run I know why You have made me
My foolish heart can come alive at last…” – A Horse & His Boy