Today, the sun is shining in a way that recalls the first day of Spring, rather than the last day of Fall. On a day like today, the ultra green grass and SUV dotted driveways of the highly populated township retain a sort of appeal that I don't often attribute to the suburbs. Its open quietness is sort of pleasing and affects a part of me that I have long assumed dead. I guess an appreciation of slow and quiet was just dormant beneath my everlasting and unquenchable love for the "hustle and bustle" of city life.
Jogging outside - in this weather, in the suburbs - is different, too. With a Cubs cap pulled down over my eyes I can run, without turning, for more than 2 miles. I cross a few quiet streets and wait at one or two red lights, but it is nothing like the constant stopandgorightturnleftturn of city running. Out here, you can envision yourself on a rubber-soft track. You can maybe run forever. Your legs feel strong and heart stronger. In the bright sunlight of Chicago's early November, the race is just beginning.
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