Getting over the Ex

I stop going to the gym in summer. Instead I'll take long morning walks through Lincoln Park neighborhoods and run home by the lake. Last summer I'd steal every evening hour cruising up the Potomac, loop the monuments, and forge new trails on Theodore Roosevelt Island.



My final summer in Boulder I hiked the flatirons everyday. My Nikes, my house-key, and my ex-boyfriend's CD player in tote, I'd head up to Chautauqua. Just a couple miles from apartment, the park cradled in the flatirons became my gym, my jungle, my sanctuary. Hiking up past the summer cottages and barbeque pits, the students with their shirts off playing Frisbee and the auditorium built for one small symphony, the trails would wrap the mountain for miles. I liked to try new trails with the hopes of getting lost. New gravel under my soles always meant a new view of the city approaching. Every step out meant it was one more step home; I could feel the burn of new muscle.



I didn't think on what I'd lost or what I'd given away. I was here to greet this present.



Coming down from the center trail, my thoughts were in the city. The rush-hour mellowed as little porch lights multiplied. The ground grew dark and rich next to that hot pink slipping sun.



My summer evenings would unravel on a rooftop Boulder bar, sampling Shiraz with a hopeful palate, or sharing salads with friends of friends. My mind and muscles felt aligned and awakened with the gift of those extra daylight hours. Even the wine swirling in the glass seemed to match the mulberry mountains.



Summer is the time to relish little indulgences. Take time to notice the flower patterns on the Magnificent Mile medians. The white bulbs bloom below the reds, I've found. Watch the DC Duck Tour boat launch at Gravely Point; if you strain to listen, I swear you can hear the quacking from ashore.



Bleak winter routines linger too long some years, but summer can melt the monotony. The gifts of summer are usually snuck-quick beneath your door like sonnets: The rooftop with the looming mountains; The wine with fruity finish; The possibility of strangers.



Relish the adventure.