Monday, December 20, 2010

The wind has changed direction; it's all hope from here.

A photo of the yard taken this morning. They say snow for five more days. 

I had a conversation with my coach this morning. He said it's time for a tempo run tomorrow. I will have to find my car-- nothing but a white mound-- and drive to Reno. Ah, but to run fast again. I am ready. After 70 miles last week on a treadmill, I am ready for the cold air on my face and memory of miles past. 

Snow is the metaphor for unbearable sadness, a friend of mine said in an email, which is funny because I just wrote an essay called "Snow" which is-- to put it vaguely-- about inexpressible sadness. My friend is currently in the midwest. I find it so interesting that we are on such similar mental wavelengths even while being so far apart. I can't wait to see her again this next semester. 

And to be out of this snow! My mom called me in tears because she hasn't seen me yet. I will make the drive, I want to make the drive. I wish there was some way I could do the distance on foot; I would. For now, though, it's more immobile miles. 10 or so on the treadmill with a growing ball of belief that I will come back from this race, recovered and better for taking it easy in the snow. 

The snow of sadness may also be the snow of hope. But--again-- for now, all I have are the miles.

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