I've been in Chicago since September 1996. This is the worst winter since I've been here. This season strongly reminds me of Nebraska winters during high school. (Puffy boot flashback!!)
Despite my constant swearing and vowing to leave this godforsaken climate, I did try to stay positive. Um, sort of.
In January I tried to run outside as often as conditions would allow -- at least one day after a snowfall, to allow time for plowing and snow to pack down on the lakefront path, or if it was above 5 degrees.
I looked for goals to distract me, like doing 661 burpees, or 20 a day, a challenge my friend Krista encouraged her friends to take in.
The kids began swimming lessons and I inhaled the chlorine-scented, humid pool air like it was a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie or one of those vanilla candles I secretly love to smell.
I sucked it up and did a half marathon in frigid weather and crappy footing that still has my right knee growling weeks later.
February was launched by spending some quality family time in California with my grandma, aunt and other loved ones -- they were great and I loved every minute I got with them. I thought, heck, a trip away to warmer temps (with a heavenly run in shorts on a sunny morning with crisp 40-degree temps, near my mom's high school and along a gorgeous river running path) and I'd come home, ready to suck it up for a few more weeks. I'd just look forward to embracing the less-difficult weather that March usually provides.
But I failed. I felt so down because it was so snowy and cold. I nearly stopped running outside because it was too depressing. I swore. My back ached from shoveling. I snapped at my husband and kids way too many times. I'm ready to set my parka and boots on fire.
But then. This week there came some awesome hope.
Today, while dropping off the 4-year-old at his school, and my 2-year-old at her daycare, something pretty nice occurred.
The warm temps in the last few days, coupled with this morning's freezing rain, or the more pleasant-sounding "wintry mix" that meteorologists like to say, made the morning easier. I did not hurdle giant frozen snow-and-ice piles today as I steered my children toward their respective schools.
Sure, we stepped around and over puddles and sad, dirty remnants of snow and ice left in Chicago's streets and sidewalks. But there was no climbing, jumping, panting and swearing under my breath. The snow and ice is melting away, finally.
It was nice.
Someone let the whining police know that I'm running outside tomorrow, no matter what.
No comments:
Post a Comment