Yesterday, I found myself running a few miles outside, in mid-February, in Connecticut, without seven layers of clothing, earmuffs, and gloves. Funny how in just 24 hours that all can change. I woke up this morning to a few inches of snow. My eyes were almost blinded, because I haven't seen this kind of white stuff in weeks. It's been a strange winter indeed. I'm in the process of training for a marathon and typically do my long runs on Saturdays. Tomorrow is supposed to be as warm as today, but with lots of wind. I'm still debating if I want to stick it out or head to the gym and run my six miles on the dreaded treadmill. People are telling me I'm lucky this winter. Apparently most years, Connecticut and this part of New York are coated in massive piles of snow. I guess New England is breaking me in gently. This move has been an interesting one. For some reason I expected to feel incredibly homesick and lonely. I didn't do well my freshman year of college, when I chose to move nine hours away from my family . . . and I sort of expected to encounter some of those same feelings during this move. Thankfully, three weeks in, I'm doing alright. Maybe it's because I already knew some great people here at my new job before moving . . . or maybe because I still talk to my best friend every day and we made a fourth-grade style pact to see each other every month . . . or maybe, dare I say it, I'm actually a grown up? We'll see how things continue to progress . . . still working on making new friends and embracing the social life of a New Englander, but I think this was a good move on all accounts. Enjoy the snow folks.
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