Sun on Skin

The sun is finally strong enough for me to dare to roll up my long sleeves

Goshdarnit, it was one of those days. Actually, I’m not sure I’ve known a February day like it, nor had the fortune to properly embrace it. It was my friend Jen’s birthday and we were going for a run together. When I set out on my bike in the morning to meet her, it was cold enough to still need gloves and a coat. By the time I was at her front door, I was rolling up the long sleeves of my running top and she was in a T-shirt. I wore sunglasses. We felt the power of the sun on our skin. We smiled at crocuses. Yes, there was still mud to navigate and the danger of slipping and of wet feet, but largely, we basked in being solar powered, chatting and laughing our way through her birthday morning run.

We lingered, we looked, there was no uncomfortable force of nature propelling us on. Other people returned our greetings (for the most part) and we made friends with dogs. The metal of the gates we passed through wasn’t bitter to the touch. We arrived back in town - we closed the loop - and we slowed to a walk. We said goodbye to each other with sunshine and the run in our cheeks.

Then I was back on my bike. I wouldn’t need my coat, and took the pace nice and easy as I pedalled back the way I’d come, seeing those houses and road signs in reverse. I sang loudly and badly to my music. I raised my eyebrows as my quads smarted in protest at a sharp hill after already cycling and running that morning. Home soon, I promise.

I ate beans on toast on a little chair outside my front door, barely needing another layer against the heat of the sun. I lingered there over coffee, admiring photos from the day, admiring the crocuses and daffodils in my little planter, closing my eyes, squinting, stretching out a morning well-spent.

My friend Jen deserves this weather on her birthday and I’m so glad I got to spend time in it with her. My dodgy leg is definitely on the mend, the knee twinging only slightly and every so often, but it feels promising. It is a relief to be back out on adventures without that level anxiety. Yes, him and I can get out on our bikes again, try and find our rhythm alongside each other again. Yes, Jen and I can plot adventures that won’t need so many layers of clothing, or so much forethought for warm shelter. We’ll go through this cycle again in due course, but I distinctly remember watching spring unfold last year and finding it so utterly breathtaking that by June, I looked back and said, “Hold on, wait, do that again?” and begged for the film to restart.

With patience, finally, we’re back at the very beginning.