The Rose

I had just finished lacing up my gym shoes when Indigo came up and licked my hand, her deep blue eyes still looking at me like when she was a puppy. A husky, her gray and white fur danced in the early morning sunlight, glowing with just as much chill as there was outside. Her were ears perked up and forward, as if to ask if she could go running with me too.

“Not today, girl,” I said, patting her head between the ears, “Rose is doing her distance run. And, you wouldn’t be able to last five whole miles, would you?”

I looked at her, moving across the room to grab my iPod, so I could strap it on to my arm. A five-mile run was going to need motivational music. That 10K wasn’t going to run itself this spring.

I remembered how I had been pushing myself, how I was almost to my goal of 6.2 miles, the equivalent measure of the race I was running. I was reminded of how far I had come, of the war I had waged within myself to make it this far, and I felt better. I was ready to do this.

“Bye, baby,” I cooed, leaning down to kiss Indigo’s head, “I’ll be back soon. Now, go in your bed.”

Glaring at me, as if to purposefully make me feel guilty for leaving her behind AGAIN for my morning run, Indigo retreated into the laundry room, tail between her legs.

“Sorry, love. Next time.”

I shut the laundry room door as Indigo sighed and nestled up against the heat register next to the wall for a nap. At least dogs get to sleep and have it easy while their humans are out doing important things. Indigo didn’t know just how good she had it, really.

I grabbed my pink and black winter coat I used for running, slipped on my ear warmers, turned on Good Charlotte on my iPod, slid over my hardwood, kitchen floor to the sliding door and opened it. A blast of pure, icy, brisk January air suddenly mixed with the heat of my home and embraced my nostrils.

I breathed: Yaaa-wehhhh.

Ahhh. At last. Serenity.

The golden morning sunlight was just starting to pour through the trees, hitting the snow of my backyard like a trillion crystals all dazzling at once. It hit the ice, frozen on the branches, making every limb look like an enchanted crystal ball. It reaches toward me, through the trees, past the backyard snow and reflects off of my running gear as I turn around to close the backdoor and step out onto my brown, gray and red patio, walking briskly toward the gate to unlatch it.

A cold wind shivers through the scenery, harshly hitting my face and making me want to run back inside where it’s warm.

God, how much longer until it’s summer again? And, why can’t I afford a nice trip to Florida??

I unlatched the gate, headed down the driveway and started picking up my pace, heading for Cranberry Lake. I wasn’t going to do any roadway running today, I decided, just link my way through the subdivisions until I hit my goal and then link my way back. Cranberry Lake was in the big subdivision across Cooley Road, the main roadway bordering where I live. It was about three miles from my house, give or take, so, eventually, a round-trip run would equal my total six miles. So far, I have been going just short of it, linking my way along main roadways to reach shorter goals. I wouldn’t do the whole thing today, but I would come close.

Thoughts drain out of my mind as my heart-rate begins to pick up. The music is all I hear in my mind and the hammering of my feet hitting the ground is all I feel as I inhale and exhale heavily, the sweat starting to roll off of my forehead. My arms sway in time at my side to the rhythm of my stride: one, two, one, two!!! I start to groan a little on the inside, my body stretching like the awkward, uncomfortable spandex I put it in for these kinds of runs; but, I press on and remember to ignore it, to just keep my breathing in time to keep my heart-rate down.

One, two!! One, two!! One, two!!

The subdivision is calm and quiet in the peaceful morning air. It’s an uneasy quiet, however, for surely adults will be headed off to work and college and children will soon be out at their bus-stops, mothers fretting over their lunches and the cold weather. The day, already glinting off the icicles fastened to the gutters on each of the gray houses, in other words, would soon be underway.

I look around, taking in the scenery as I run, watching for black ice so I don’t slip. I’m alone, except for God and the occasional car passing by me, saying “shooah!” as if to bid me hello and goodbye all at once. As another passes by, I look for a driver. All I can see, however, are taillights as a maroon Aztech turns on its verbose blinker and silently turns right onto Cooley Road. And then, it is gone, speeding off to wherever it is off to this morning.

When I myself get to Cooley Road, I pause cautiously and look both ways, my mind carefully calculating to see if I can safely cross. Glancing this way and that, I feel a surging of fear and anticipation, as if the yellow lines and black asphalt sprinkled with salt might come out and bite me. All sorts of vehicles race by me, going faster than I could ever run. Wow, there was a lot of traffic this morning.

As I stand here, waiting for a gap in the traffic, however, I remember Indigo at home again, napping next to the heat register. And, suddenly, I have this nagging feeling that I left something important behind, probably all because she couldn’t come with me today. We ran together before, and she did fine jogging along by my side. Why was I doubting her now?

“I should have brought her with me,” I muttered under my breath.

Then, suddenly spying just the right moment, I dash across Cooley Road and begin to pace myself toward the big subdivision. Adrenaline rushes over my bloodstream as I run with the cadence of the main road, thinking of how easily I could get hit in this situation.

“Whoosh! Whooosh! Whooosh!!!”, the cars greet me, “Ca-Ahhhh!!!”

As I finally make it to the entrance of the big subdivision, I start feeling a little run down.

I can do this. Don’t quit. Do it. Just do it, sweet pea! It will be over soon, you’ll see!

“Cardiology” blares into my ears through the electric veins of my headphones, song after never-ending song, as I run in motion with its beats. Everything is going by in a blur now. I check my watch to see how far I’ve come. A sports watch, I set it to miles to track my distance. I had been so focused on my pacing that I’d forgotten to check it.

About two and a half. Good.

I pause a moment on the side of the street to grab my water bottle from my pocket. I untwist the cap, take a swig and put it back. I look around, knowing Cranberry Lake is just up ahead, but know I will not make it there today. I turn to cross the street where I’m at, turning around to go back. The day would come when I would reach it; but, for today, I felt satisfied that I had attained my main goal. It was time to head back and take a hot shower. With the biting cold starting to penetrate my limbs, even sweating as I was, that certainly, suddenly, felt welcome.

I gradually picked up my pace in anticipation. There were still miles to go, but I knew I could take it. I had made it this far and I was resolved to make it back. I just had to believe it was possible.

One, two! One, two! One, two!

“Note to self,” I said, breathing heavily, “Let Indigo out when you get home.”

And, gazing at the pasty blue, wintery sky bathed in the golden yellow of daybreak, racing steadily ahead, that is exactly what I intended to do.

This fictional short story is Copyright 2014 by Jessica McLean. File sharing is encouraged.