Today was my first run in temps lower than 32 degrees. It was 25 when I headed out, and damned windy. I’d bundled, layered and wrapped, my new balaclava in place, equipment everywhere – earbuds, iPod, cell phone, car key, Christ, I’m middle aged, maybe I should just start wearing a fanny pack.
I parked where I usually start, which is of course by bathrooms, and by the time I was done in there, my hands were shaking and my teeth were chattering it was so damned cold. This is truly the craziest and riskiest I have ever felt when starting a run. I texted a friend that I wasn’t sure I could run at all, the path was almost pure ice with a soft but steady layer of snow falling, and then I told myself what I often do – just one mile, and then you can turn around. I thought of a friend while I ran, who went through scheduled chemo yesterday and was going to attempt a whole fucking marathon today down in Oklahoma. Get off your lazy ass, I told myself, and try. I started out tentatively; small steps, super, super slow. Getting the hang of having basically no traction. Things cleared up a little once I got to the path that runs along the woods; it’s more shielded from the wind and while not what I’d call great in terms of traction. I felt more confident. Once my hands warmed up, I was even comfortable, and settled in, managing 6.15 miles, WAY more than I thought I’d get done today. I pushed it a little the last two and while it wasn’t normal running speed, I think I’ve mostly got the hang of it now. But you have to pay so much more attention to every footfall, and you use your muscles differently, which I think is a good thing. I didn’t fall and break anything, which is a a VERY good thing. Perhaps that penny I found right before I started the run helped after all. Lucky.A local resale board I sometimes try to sell things on was dark today as one of the admins lost her husband suddenly and unexpectedly. I don’t really know these women personally, but we all chat sometimes on there and I thought of her today. Any of us can be taken anytime; what time we have is so precious. I’m working harder on making that time count, as much as possible. I’m working damned hard on it, in fact. It’s important.Today is the birthday of a musician friend who is in a band I’ve loved, supported and watched for, gosh now, probably 25 years? Clip of the band at top; they are absolutely my favorite local band and I’ve logged more hours in their company than I should probably admit. And all very, very good guys too. I got the opportunity to know them personally over the years, a couple even supplied music for a movie I was in, which I co-produced, and I briefly dated one of their drummers. Cracker jack musicians I could watch play every week – and did, for a very long time. I also connected with another old musician friend recently on the Facebook monster, which is increasingly good for these kinds of reconnects, and related discussion. Yay, middle-agers! We can’t take over the world anymore, but we can take over FB.As my 46th birthday approaches, I’m coming up with a list of facts and details about me for my birthday party. I realized tonight how lucky I am to have had so very many people care so much about me in my life. Ones who are still in my life, others who have left, one way or another. Multiple best friends. Giving, treasured lovers of both sexes. Many proposals, several engagements. A beautiful, wonderful child. When I look back over my shoulder, it really does makes me smile.