I'm a summer-loving, winter-dreading, cold-weather-hating kind of girl. I'm a get-up-early-in-the summer morning-to-watch-the-sun-come-up-when-I'm-running kind of girl, but with the shift of seasons, I've had to adapt if I want to run at all. So instead of watching the sun come up, I've been watching the sun go down on my afternoon/early evening runs. The days are short right now, so unbelievably short and sometimes really bleak and gray and depressing, so it's more important now than ever that I get my runs in when I can. These runs are my saving grace, my moments of calm, of deep cleansing breathing in and out and in again. I dress in layers and mittens and my stocking cap and I sprint...I sprint to get past the holy-crap-it-is-so-frickin-cold, I sprint to feel free, I sprint to feel alive.
I run and I run and I run and the sun sets in the distance splashing pink and purple and orange hues against the cold, winter sky. And the stars start to pop up one by one, and the light of the moon reflects on the snow and it's really really beautiful. I've never noticed this beauty of winter running so much as I have this season.
Running and breathing and feeling with my heart and soul and turning down the noise in my mind and listening to the snow crunch under my shoes and looking up at the night sky and feeling really small and really big all at the same time and feeling bold and empowered and strong with each step I take and finally warming up and hearing only the night silence with the beat of my heart in my ears and with each breath in and out my burdens are lifted and one by one they float away like balloons into the cold winter sky.
I'm feeling so thankful right now that I get to call myself a runner.