Into the Grey

Sunday's cold front carried torrential rains yesterday and left lingering gray skies today.

55° and misting, today's Usual 4 called for breaking out the first long-sleeve tech shirt of the season.

(Sidenote: As a fair-skinned individual, I am always amazed at how much better I feel running in cool weather.)

Running through the mist today reminded me of my first autumn running in Chicago.  Actually, it reminds me of my first experience of Chicago, period.

I was sixteen. My high school was on its whirlwind junior trip - 72 total hours with at least 8 different activities crammed into it? When our bus pulled into downtown, it was drizzling, overcast and ferociously windy.

I took a picture of this restaurant:

Source

And while my classmates were bemoaning the nasty weather, I was falling in love with the city.

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When I arrived for my first term a year and a half later, I was thrilled to learn that Chicago was on a grid - and even typically directionless me could learn to navigate a grid. From my room at University Hall, I would walk down Fullerton through the crazy intersection of Fullerton-Halstead-Lincoln and then start running east, toward the lake.

This is the first lesson of Chicago proper: if you continue travelling east you will eventually hit Lake Michigan.

During peak season, you and an untold number of others will swarm there on the lakefront path - bicycling, running, walking, rollerblading, skateboarding. You may even see (as I did on multiple occasions) a cyclist simultaneously walking their dog, talking on their cell, and smoking a cigarette. As such, there are times of the year when traversing this path is perilous. While I almost always walked with my Discman, I never ran with music.

To avoid the crowds, I ran there many a time at night (much to the chagrin of my native work supervisors), even as the all too brief autumn turned to an early winter. I would run east to the path and then run south until I saw the North Avenue walkway - then turn around and head back to the dorm.

Lake Michigan could be an angry gray beast during the long winter months, vast and powerful as the city thrumming just beyond its shores.The ceaseless wind would numb your tender nose, ears, and fingertips - "You come here now," the lake scoffed, "this is the price you pay."

I'm so glad I did.