Day LXVII: Precious

When spring arrives in Minnesota, forty degrees above zero means shorts and sandals. Conditioned by the dark, cold winter, any hopeful ray of sunlight becomes a godsend. The lakes become a destination, even layered in ice. Sunroofs are cracked, windows call the breeze, and smiles become a tad more genuine--as genuine as they can be in the passive-aggressive tradition of Minnesota Nice.

Harriet is flush with luxury--designer yoga pants, exquisite hair--regardless of how far you drift from the shore. Cedar echoes with laughter and reeks of local weed. Lake of the Isles sparkles in sunglasses and bounces with puppies and well-trained rescues. And Calhoun? Calhoun is packed. Packed with smiles, packed with wheels, packed with conversations, packed. Full. Stuffed. Packed.

It's a wonder that I choose the busiest lake for exercise. For whatever reason, I just find the run around Lake Calhoun to be the most exciting. And, perhaps more telling, the most distracting.

I've never been one to run indoors. That's why I balloon in the winter. It's hibernation Josh, if you will. Pleasantly plump for the winter, and ready to get outside in the spring. So when the chance to play in the warmth--a word here which means "the temperature climbs higher than freezing"--I happily grasp at the invitation.

Today was an "everything's coming up Josh" sort of day. The kind of Thursday that affords you a smile and wink, a generous nudge into a happier direction. And the run provided a delightful cherry to top it off. I struggled to pull my camera up while jogging to snap this photo, and I was surprised (pleasantly) to discover that the following picture turned out pretty well! Nevermind that I was shaking and sweating and lipsyncing, all of them profusely.

A small child, out on a lovely walk with her companion. 

What a precious day.