Cold Runs

Yesterday I went on a run for the first time since my vertigo started (which is gone, people! Hallelujah!). The weather was perfect — 70, low humidity. Daylight Savings has the sun setting at 7:30pm now, so it was all blue and pink skies as I left off at 7. I opened up Spotify and chose a playlist I hadn’t listened to in a long time: “cold runs,” the playlist I listened to on repeat as I trained for my first ever half marathon in 2014.

It’s amazing how songs can transport you to another time and place. Even as I jogged steadily along the beautiful bay, the wind cooling me off, I remembered running along the icy bridle path in Central Park. Freezing toes, cold bursts of visible breath through my thin merino neck gaiter, avoiding puddles of slush and black ice. I remembered singing along to those songs with friends from Mud, the café I worked at the year after college.

Even now, just sitting at home over break, copywriting and listening to Innerbloom by Rüfüs du Sol, I am transported to the All Day I Dream festival we went to pre-pandemic at the Brooklyn Mirage. Back when we still didn’t feel the pressure of adulthood in the same way we do now. Back when we all seemed to have more free time and more energy to see people after work.

But then the song ends, and I look around, and we’re not in 2014 or 2019. We’re in March 2023, just trying to figure it all out.