Wednesday, August 29

I'm not sure why the last three weeks have taken a toll on my spirit. I am rather bothered by my exhaustion and impatience which leads me into a further dis-spirited position. Grrr. Eventually, I just want to go to bed despite the fact that it is only 9 pm and I haven't even had my chuckle with Ben and Scrubs. It could be possible that I am just slightly overwhelmed at work. It could also be possible that this time of year becomes crunch time to enjoy each and every beautiful day left before February dullness. It could also be a phantom feeling that I am slipping in responsibilities. Either way, Elizabeth called for a run and it took every effort I had to unprop my feet a resting place above my heart. I had a side cramp just sitting in my car driving to the lake.

"This jaunt isn't going to be pretty," I warned Elizabeth, currently my opposite, who is steadfast on keeping up with our running itinerary that will eventually lead to a triathalon. It is like traveling with that person who always is looking at the map, rotating it, studying it before bedtime while calculating scenic routes and miles the entire time. We are always right where we should be and then some.

"We've got to complete three miles today but tomorrow is an easy two." I was already out of breath. We ran along Lake Michigan's limestone path heading north. The ripples in the sky spelled out atmospheric turmoil. I stared out at the windsurfers on the lake with their gray-blue sails. Similar to when you stare into the night sky and stars appear gradually, the longer I gazed into the lake, the more sails I saw. Possibly fifty windsurfers were jetting, speeding across the turning tides of an oncoming storm. A bull horn sounded from the Northwestern Sailing Station and I hypothesized (breathlessly) it's meaning.

The run was terrible and I cursed and sputtered as I made my way through a weak three miles. But the feeling in the air was immense and moving: this is change. The sounds of wind rushing through thick branches of leaves, the drop in temperature to 75 degrees, the site of small graduate school groups gathering near Northwestern University with time on their hands before classes begin. Fall is officially upon us and already my body can feel the push and pull of change.

posted by Jenny Wednesday, August 29, 2007

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