Just got back in from a run. We took the baby out in the jogging stroller for the first time. We have a super-basic jogging stroller, completely stripped down, almost no bells or whistles. It has a bag under the seat and a rear pocket and a hand brake. It is at least ten years old. Maybe older. We got it used from a coworker who used it with her two kids who are, I think, seven and five now? And she got it used. We are at least the third, but for some reason I think fourth, owner of said stroller. Nonetheless! We put air in the tires, unfolded it, vacuumed all the sawdust off it (hazards of basement life) and headed for the sunny side of the street (the cloudy side of the street is still full of ice and rapidly melting snow and slush.) I have no idea how it went, because they were off and out of sight before I could say boo. So I did three miles, all by myself, feeling my usual slow-poke-ness but also feeling something totally new. Something I haven’t felt in months.
I felt hot. Not warmed up, not warm, but hot. Not sexy-hot, but temperature hot. The sun is beating down on me hot. I try not to call it on the first great day of the year, but this year I’m calling it early because I need it. Spring is here, or really, really close.