I didn’t know my whole face could turn into an icicle
Until it’s 7 am and I have convinced myself
That I am some sort of hero
If I go run in the negative twenty windchill
I make it four miles
Where my elbows are locking up by the last
And my thighs numb
Under three layers
And my eyelashes are heavy with ice
In the shower, after, my whole stomach is red with cold
Next time, I’ll wear a vest too
Am I a hero yet?
It doesn’t matter
If you want to tell the story
You need to live the story
And so I make up winter feats
To break up February
And trick myself into exercise
Reminding my muscles they still work
Despite my hibernation
The most extreme races
Running in the arctic
Negative sixty-eight degrees or so
Hundreds of times
Are for the mad people
(or the mad heroes)
For a mile or four
I can make believe I’m in that story
Questing for something
Daring for something
And that is worth the freezing cheeks
With Love,
Natalie