Photo by Anna Chanakas
I awoke before my alarm went off; laying under two blankets in the darkness, I tried to motivate myself to get up and “layer up” so I can go out running. I realize we just had the coldest week in a while where the temperature dipped way below freezing. In fact, yesterday it was a balmy 23 degrees Fahrenheit. Now I’m determined no matter how cold it is; I’m going out.
The past few Sundays, I have run through high winds, rain and blizzard conditions, and I was the only one in my neighborhood crazy enough to battle the elements. I’m not sure why I’ve been going out since I’m a freeze baby; I live for the hot, summer months. I guess I see it as a challenge to get out there and see if I make it or not. I always do make it.
Honestly, I don’t seem to get cold other than my face. It is all in the preparation, or the “Layering up.”
This Sunday morning, however, was breathtaking. In the dark, is usually when I go out before 7 am. I’m not sure why; Habit where I want to get my run in before my day starts. I started running down my street in the quiet morning, no wind just my sneakers crunching through the snow. I weaved through the streets since the sidewalks were covered in snow. My arms move in pace with my legs. I got the rhythm going as my hot breath shot through the cold air. I had a smile on my face for the stillness that surrounded me.
This is probably one of my best, memorable runs.
It’s purely the frigid, wintery environment that caught me off guard. As I do every week, I run along the pier that juts out into Lake Erie. Unlike a few weeks ago where the waves violently hit the shore, the waves froze. They stopped right where the temperature dropped. My jaw dropped as the beauty of Lake Erie took my breath away. With the arctic temperatures, I didn’t anticipate the Lake would freeze so quickly. I yelled into the peaceful sky, “This is awesome.”
I walked along the pier instead of running in case I hit an ice patch.The full, orangish moon was my guiding light. It stood motionless along the horizon mocking anyone who dared looked at its brilliance. In the moonlight, I can see nature at its best. Spinning around slowly to see every angle, I stood for a few minutes taking in this masterpiece. I desperately wanted to step onto one of those frozen waves just to see how thick is the ice.
Moreover, there was ice hanging on a metal contraption at the end of the pier. I felt like I was standing at the edge of the arctic. I thought of Shackleton’s 1914 -1916 Expedition through Antarctica trying to sail through ice-choked waters. His ship got stuck as he tried to sail through the ice.
In this frozen tundra, I felt like I was somewhere else, alone in my own world. The only runner battling this cold. All the years I have been doing this route, I would see the same residents walking their dogs or taking a brisk walk. There was no one out. Just me running through thick patches of packed snow.
The view was tranquil, “Frozen in time.” A masterpiece that only God could create.
The sun begins to appear replacing the glowing moon. The sky is a brilliant blue, orange and red. “Wow,” I thought. The sun appears in Cleveland, a city that doesn’t get many sun.
As the hour nears eight, I see a few people milling around, waiting for the bus and another runner passes me all bundled up. My face gets numb as I finish my route at E. 185th Street. The day begins and I’ve finished my five mile run – happy that I’m done and excited that I experienced the frozen lake. I fear that when the temperatures rise again this week, the waves will begin to move like nothing ever happened.
As much as I adore the warm weather, I fear that these abnormal temperatures will haunt us later with more severe storms and excessive heat waves. I remember during my childhood when winter lasted until March or into early April. That was normal. I think our new normal is fluctuating temperatures - the highs and the extreme lows. What can you do, just take it in stride I guess?
Wednesday, January 30, I went out again without the layers I had on Sunday. As I feared, Lake Erie began to melt. The waves were heavy eager to move as if spring was beginning. Believe it or not, my tulips began to break through the soil. I yelled in desperation, go back down it’s still winter.
Shackleton
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/shackleton/
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