Monday, November 6
Snow.
Before heading to the basement for my daily run, I look out the window of the loft and am completely surprised when I see white stuff falling from the sky. The sidewalks are covered. The streets are covered, though it looks like they’ve been plowed a few times, it’s just coming down really hard and fast.
I’ve never seen snow fall like this before. I’ve seen it already on the ground, but never coming from the sky. I just stand there and watch it, completely mesmerized.
“You ready?” Sander asks.
I turn away from the window to look at him. “Ready for what?”
“To train,” he says.
“Oh,” I say, then look back out the window at the snowfall. “I guess.”
“We can put the treadmill so it looks out the window in the basement,” Sander says, smiling at me. “If you’re that interested in the snow.”
“I’ve never seen it before,” I say. “I mean, not falling, and never in person. It’s really pretty.”
“You’ve never seen it snow before?”
I can hear the shock in his tone, but I don’t want to look away from the window, not even for a second.
“Never,” I say, then suddenly feel very sad. “I can’t even go outside and enjoy it.”
“Snow isn’t all that great,” Sander says. “It’s wet and cold.”
“And pretty,” I say. “I want to build a snowman. And go sledding. And have a snowball fight. And make a snow angel.”
“I promise, it will snow more this year,” he says. “And when it does, we will do all those things. I’m so sorry we can’t do them now, I just can’t risk your safety.”
I know that. But it still crushes me to hear him say it.
I turn away from the window, even though I’d rather spend my entire day looking out.
“I’m sorry,” Sander says, giving me a bitter smile.
I get it. I do. I’m just so... disappointed.
“It’s okay,” I say.
I follow Sander to the basement and true to his word, he moves the treadmill so I can look out the window at the snowfall. The window is really small and at the top of the wall and it’s still dark outside, but I can see a little.
Honestly, even if what happened yesterday hadn’t happened, I’d still be down here working out today. We wouldn’t be running in the snow. But the fact that I can’t even go outside to play in the snow breaks my heart a little bit.
I’m breathing super heavy today as I run. When I look down, I expect our run to be almost over, but I’ve only run three miles.
“Why is it so much harder to run on a treadmill?” I ask, turning the speed down a little bit.
“I think it’s a mind thing,” Sander says. “I can’t stand running on a treadmill. I don’t know how Hunter and Jaxon do it. I think they listen to podcasts while they run, though.”
“Maybe I should do that,” I say. “Or music.”
“Anything that helps,” he says.
“I just really want to be back outside, even if it is cold,” I say. “It’s highly demotivating to know that I’m not going to be able to leave the house today, even though I really want to play in the snow.”
Sander laughs. “You sound like a kid.”
“Playing in the snow would be me reliving childhood dreams,” I say.
“The first time it snowed when I started Spy School, I skipped the entire day of school to play in the snow,” he says. “So, I really can’t judge you for wanting to go outside. But today won’t be so bad, I promise. Jaxon said something about making soup and we can light the fireplace and find something fun to watch on TV.”
“Christmas movies?” I ask.
“It’s November,” he says. “Not even Thanksgiving yet.”
“But it’s snowing. And snow, to me, equals Christmas,” I say.
“Isn’t Christmas in LA on the warm side?”
“Okay. So maybe Christmas is more palm trees and sand, but it’s always snowing in the movies on Christmas, therefore it feels like Christmas now,” I say.
“Fine,” Sander says. “We’ll watch Christmas movies.”
Success.