"We must be crazy or something"

Winter has set in early. Lucky for me that means my marathon training is about to start.

As the leaves lose their will, let go, and cover the yard I try and pretend like I don’t know what’s coming, like the cars on Route 95 that I can see through the woods at work don’t exist, or the people in the condos across the garden are a dream, but it’s undeniable now. Because more than revealing what is true, the winter is a reminder of loss.

My sister's best friend has lost her mother to a battle with breast cancer. She died on the 1^st. I knew the winter had begun. The anniversary of my best friend’s father’s death quickly approaches, followed by the anniversary of the loss of the woman who has led to this winter anxiety – my mother.

The winter was different then than it is now. Basketball sneakers skidding on the court, decorating gingerbread cookies that no one ever ate, secret santas, skating alone with a boyfriend, the first snow. I remember the excitement of waking up and seeing the snow sticking to the screen of my window, my mother coming into my room and whispering in my ear that I could sleep in because school was canceled. Now the snow reminds me of the ambulance. And everything else takes me back to her. The warm smells, the textures, the tastes were all because of her and they are impossible to genuinely re-create. All lost.

My winter running lets me breathe. Last night, dressed for late January temperatures, I hit the pavement fast and hard. I feel quicker in the cold. Brave. My body becomes an engine and runs hot while everyone else pulls their collars up and hats down. The dark quiets the hum of the city. Geese scatter as I push along the trail. I feel myself smiling.

Some steps approach from behind and a man jogs up next to me. He’s smiling too. As he speaks his breath becomes a cloud around us, “we must be crazy or something!” I laugh and reply, “at least a little…” He pulls ahead and disappears into the dark. We may have completely different lives, challenges to face, fears, hopes, but at that moment we are the same. Finding the same freedom, on the same dark night, and returning home smiling.