My thighs are Popsicles. I knew it was cold out from the weather report but I didn't know how windy it was. I wore my sunglasses to keep my eyes from freezing. Winter here is not regular Flagstaff winter--there is barely any snow, but this week, it's cold. The snow that is there hides rocks for twisting ankles. I fall on the ice and scrape my hands. The wind whistles into my ear drum, so far it makes my teeth hurt.
And yet! This is the preferred running. The rest of the day will be running around from my office on the first floor to the Comp office on the third floor where the grad applications live. Travel forms, letters of rec (still?), and essay proofs print in the English Department office, where I will run, down the hall, to pick up one by one (yesterday, I ran around too fast and sent a letter of rec to no one--I forgot to address the envelope). I'll run over to the grad college and over to Babbitt for the UGC meeting where I'll defend, I hope for the last time, the idea of turning our MA to an MFA. Also. We need coffee. Eggs. Run to the CSA. Pick up Max. Pick up Z. Run around the kitchen, chop up vegetables. Run into the living room because Max can't reach his train. Run over to Z to help her with her Spanish homework that already surpasses my Spanish-speaking skills so that running is completely useless. All this running doesn't make me skinny. It doesn't make me warm. It makes me nervous and frantic and feel a little bit like if I could spend the whole day really running, rather than running around, I would actually be getting more done.