Running Days are Here Again!

Today was the first day of 2010 that I ran on the Lake Shore. The clouds deserted the sky for the day, allowing the sunshine to bathe the city with abandon. The run was so liberating that it felt as though I were busting through the confines of air-tight cellophane that choked my body all winter. The adrenaline kicked in immediately. So much so, that I completely forgot about pacing. I just ran my heart out until just past North Ave. beach, when I realized that I was out of breath (and out of shape). But the air was great, and on the way back, when I finally regained enough energy to start jogging again, the wind felt glorious. There’s something to be said for wind resistance—you just can’t get that on a treadmill. Plus, the people-watching on the lake shore never fails to keep the eyes happily occupied.

Rooftop Reverie

I’m sitting up on the rooftop deck (and yes, that song “Up on the Roof” is running through my head). It’s April 1, 83 degrees outside, and no, that’s no April Fool’s joke. It’s the first true taste of summer, and as soon as I was home from work, I was up on the deck.

The wind is a bit awful up here, though. I thought I’d try to capture a little Vitamin D before the sun went down, to try and blast out the rest of this throat infection (strep, how I loathe you). But the sunshine that beckoned all day through the windows of the 64th floor, and bathed my arms as Christina and I made a cupcake run at 1:30 (yes, that’s right, we made a Sugar Bliss run—mmm), has since retreated behind the clouds.

It’s still warm, though—luxuriously warm—and the views are amazing. Here I sit, smack dab in the middle of a cityscape. (How I will miss this when I move.) In the pockets between high rises, I can see quainter neighborhoods off to the west. And the beautiful lake to the east—she’s all shades of green, aqua, and blue today.

[Here's Bill disturbing my thoughts. It’s always a bit awkward when you’re a thousand miles away in your reverie, just writing, and someone you know snaps you back to reality with a simple hello. I always wonder if I look like I’m a thousand miles away, as I imagine I do, which should be your cue to just keep moving. Anyhow, Bill never fails to say hello when he sees me. So, we chat for a few minutes. He’s on spring break and I can tell that he’s been outside all day—the early spring sunshine having tinged his shaved head a light shade of pink. Bill’s a nice guy, but I’m relieved when he heads back inside without his usual invitation to grab a drink later.]

It’s on days like this, up on the rooftop in downtown Chicago feeling like I’m where I’ve always wanted to be that I start to wonder where, exactly, I will end up. Right now, I want nothing more than to be right here. Even as I struggle the constant struggle to find myself, and wonder where my life will take me, and what may be waiting beyond Chicago, I can’t help but sense opportunity here. And to feel that it’s the place for me, despite my struggle to keep up with the rat race (how often I feel trapped in the spinning wheel), and to enjoy the city on a strict budget. My conscience keeps telling me to relax and be patient, that I need to give it time. I have such big plans for myself, and somehow, I want it all to happen for me right now. I guess all I can know is that Chicago is right for me in this time and space. I really do feel that I belong here now. I hope that I will belong here for much, much longer, but sometimes it seems so impractical, so expensive...

Anyhow, weird where the mind goes during an hour on up on the roof. The wind is dying down now. My freshly cut bangs aren’t flailing quite so helplessly in the breeze.

Spring and Snowflakes

Had a pretty good feeling that it would snow on the first day of spring this year. Having been born and raised in the Midwest, I know that this is fairly common. I also know, however, that snow on the first day of spring is usually the last snow, or close to it. March is a funny month. You can beware the Ides, or you can get smart and just beware the entire 31 days.

Two days ago, Mother Nature was teasing us with temperatures near 70, and full sunshine. On Thursday evening, Kat and I took a long walk after work—the first I’ve taken outside since fall. As the sun headed west, the temperatures dropped rather swiftly, but it still felt amazing to be out in the sunshine. The lake path was bustling, some of the fencing along the sand had already been removed, and a group of die-hard volleyball players were manning a net on the beach. That day, everyone joked about the beautiful weather, and the impending weekend snow. Sure enough, I awoke to see the heavy snowflakes falling this morning, and they’ve remained steady all day.

Okay, snow. Bring it on. Because soon—so soon you can already smell it in the air—summer will descend upon Lake Michigan, Millennium Park, the Mag Mile, and all will be well in Chi-town. In fact, all already is well, as the excitement for the season builds and Chicagoans increasingly take to the outdoors. In fact, last night one of my friends mentioned that they’d seen the first sailboat of the season out on the lake this week. Sally forth, lone sailboat. Soon, you’ll be joined by many others. We can hardly wait.

Pockets

We are getting so lucky with our pockets of springtime. Both today and yesterday were magnificent, with highs near seventy degrees, and full sunshine. I had every intention of going down to Macy’s yesterday for the noon lighting of their big Christmas tree, until the sunshine bursting in from the slats in my blinds woke me in the morning, and immediately convinced me that my day would best be spent outside. How can I possibly think about the holidays when it feels like May (honestly, I have no idea how they ever get into the Christmas spirit in Florida or Southern California)? So, after puttering lazily about the apartment for a couple of hours, I went out and spent some time with on of my favorite ladies—Lake Michigan.

It really felt like summer again, as I threw on a T-shirt and ran out the door. I just ran and ran and drank in the sunshine. Many people, and their dogs, were out enjoying the weather. Maybe I’m just missing Henry (our family collie-mix), but I saw more dogs this weekend than I have in ages. Adorable, big, fluffy dogs. Some swimming in the lake, some trying to jump in the lake with their owners in tow, some running up and down the beach. Dalmatians, golden retrievers, black labs, sheepdogs. They were having so much fun, I couldn’t help but smile (and wish I had Henry with me).

Anyway, up past Fullerton, I took a break to sit and stare at the lake. It had been well over a month since I’d last gone down to the shore and just drank in the beauty of the lake and the city and let myself be. Lake Michigan was calm and smooth. Only the occasional wave runner marred her surface, but I enjoyed the way the sun created rainbows of lake spraying out from behind them. I believe I sat there for over half an hour, which is a pretty long time for me to just sit, without talking, without reading, without surfing the net, without working on something.

Being by the lake is such a contrast to the busy city life that it’s sometimes hard to believe that both exist within the bounds of Chicago. Tomorrow morning I will be lost in the crush of people siphoning into the El on their morning commutes. I will squeeze into some pocket of space between bodies just wide enough for me to stand in until I get to my stop. I will have no choice but to breathe in the smell of the lotion, cologne, or body odor of the person next to me, and to become uncomfortably warm in my layers of clothing.

But while I’m on the train I’ll think about how, just yesterday, I was running in a tank top by the lake, lungs expanding with fresh air, and soaking up sunshine. Nothing but water and open space to my east. When I was out there, I never once looked at a clock or a cell phone or even bothered wondering what time it was. I feel like my batteries were recharging. So tomorrow, when I’m back in the hubbub and probably wishing it were still Sunday, I’ll nevertheless be pretty fresh-faced and ready to tackle the week (at least, I hope so!).

“You Say Good-bye…”

A lazy Sunday was welcome after a weekend exhaustingly full of some of Chicago’s best food and entertainment (it had started with tapas at Ba-ba-ree-ba on Friday night, and then never ceased!). So, Wendy and I relaxed during a casual brunch at Tavern on Rush, filling up on coffee and eggs (or stuffed French toast, in Wendy’s case) and afterward shuffled back to my place and napped before heading to the beach for a leisurely afternoon of reading and sunshine.

I was disappointed that when we reached Oak Street beach we found it completely blocked off and littered with white tents (I didn’t even bother to find out what event was going on), and trucks lining half the waterfront from Oak Street to North Ave. The lake didn’t seem too happy about the intrusion either. I have never seen the waters of Lake Michigan so high before. She caught walkers off guard as she swelled and exploded over the concrete edges barely confining her. Her waves puddled around the tires of the dirty trucks along the shore. We watched an unsuspecting photographer become completely engulfed in a wave, trying to protect his camera as he jumped away two seconds too late. The lake was being quirky, unpredictable. If anything, I’d say that Lake Michigan was being a bit sassy.

Wendy and I were enthralled, and I was feeling dramatic like the body of water dancing before us. My emotions felt like the swelling of the lake, spilling out of their confinements. Shivering a bit in my sweatshirt, I had to accept the end of the summer, and the conclusion of Wendy’s visit. Her trip had been a much-needed pick-me-up, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to face the closing of one chapter, and the opening of another. Wendy and I sat there together, entranced by the lake, Wendy providing sound words of advice, me grappling with months’ worth of emotion. Endings are always difficult, and change is scary, especially when you feel as though you are facing it alone. And later, after I saw Wendy off at Union Station, I cried on the way to the El. My best friend was leaving town, and the summer was over.

Saying good-bye to the summer meant saying good-bye to KT, which I did, for the last time, the very last night of August. Monday night found the two of us on the lake shore. That night, the lake was calm, pitch-black. I gazed out past the body of water, allowing the moment to wash over me, feeling every word, every sentence sink into my core, my heart wrapping around the closure I’d been awaiting. While little pieces of me still cling to the past, to what was, to a relationship that began the summer full of happiness, I have accepted the end result and am happy to leave it behind with the warm summer nights. I finally feel fortified to face the fall and welcome the changing of seasons.

“…I Say Hello."