ice

Today I tried to decide whether to love or hate ice. I mean, who loves ice though? It is a predator. Ice causes car accidents. Ice makes you later than you already are when you are forced to scrape it off your windshield all the while freezing your bum off. Ice is the adjective I use to descibe my poor self after spending three point five minutes in the showers in my dorm (apparently plumbing is not a strong point for the fellows here).

But, I am different. I guess that is a rather general statement, but it is pretty fitting for my personality. So I am on my run this morning. Yes, snow is melting all around today (finally!), but being morning, the temperature was hovering right around 30 degrees. Needless to say, my sidewalks were treacherous. I'm not so much annoyed as many serious runners tend to be. I am not taking my splits, so its not like I am failing by not staying on pace. To the contrary, I enjoy the extra challenge. So I am running even slower than usual, big deal. Today I found a beautiful little bridge crossing the big Mississippi that I hadn't explored yet. I rounded the corner and full out slipped onto my bum. I popped up, brushed off my scaped leg, and went on my way. This slip and run tactic is important because it is necessary to leave the scene of the accident as quickly as possible as to not attrack bystanders. A little ways down the trail I stop to lick my wounds. My leg was a mess. This little 5'5" chick looked tough. A warrior. I mean to be honest, there was maybe a few scratches and a lot of mud, but the feeling was real. I made it through battle, wounded, and kept going. I decided to not clean it off. I left it and kept running with my head held high.

Towards the end of my run, I have to spend a small amount of time in the company of walkers and traffic and just other people in general. I choose this moment to wipe out for a second time. I mean, who falls twice? Certainly not warriors. What was I thinking? Warriors don't even fall one time. Clumsy people fall down. Deranged, imbalanced people, like myself, fall down twice in the span of 60 minutes.

So ice made me a warrior, more than human. Then it took that away and left me less than human. A stupid human. Maybe I decide to not love ice. Or maybe this is telling me something about my own life. There isn't time to relish in your victories of winning the battle, when just around the corner you are bound to fall down again. The war is never over.