Cold, wet, dark, beautiful

It never fails to amaze me how stunningly beautiful it is to run home from work. It's cold, wet, and dark here. It's a short - oh so short - 4.5 miles, barely enough time to stretch my legs & calm my breathing. And it's city running - sidewalks, bike lanes, road shoulders. The air is heavy with commuter exhaust. Even the stellar views along terwilliger are coated in the gray-darkness.

I'm running from the hospital to my family - from one reality into the next - both featuring daily tears, poo, and pee on the floor. Along with impossible goals, unrealistic expectations, constant feelings of inadequacy, and never-ending self-disappointment.

But the run. The run that bridges the worlds. The freedom, the air, the movement, the ease. That luxurious easy feeling of putting one foot in front of the other. It's just me out there, just being and breathing. It is beautiful.