From the soreness and stiffness in my thighs, hips, calves, and lower back, I know I did something that hurt so good. Running the 5k after months of healing my knee made me feel proud and ready for more.
My eyelids are growing heavy, each blink getting longer, and with every close, I can feel myself melting into the bed like warmed-up chocolate. But I fight it—I’ve got a blog post to write.
Before I continue, my eyes close once more. In my mind, I’m turning in a circle three times, like a dog finding the perfect spot, and then plopping down on the softest, goosedown pillow next to my loving human in a ski lodge cabin. It’s funny to be dreaming of winter while summer continues to summer.
Lately, the pull of winter is stronger than ever. I’ve been longing for that cold air, imagining myself like a dog bounding through a snowdrift, only to curl up by the fire at my owner’s feet. Maybe it’s the never-ending summer that’s pushing me toward that vision. Or maybe it’s something deeper—the pace of fall and winter, which feels slower, more deliberate, something I’ve been craving in the midst of all the chaos.
The stress of moving, combined with how long it took to build this house—and the fact that there’s things still not done—has left me yearning for that quiet, slower rhythm. I thought once we moved in, things would settle, but it’s like everything’s still in motion, still waiting to land. And here I am, dreaming of the time when I can stop, when the cold settles in, and everything feels still for a while.
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 