Identity

When I finished my run, my right arm and knee were both covered with blood, and my feet and legs were covered with mud. I staggered to a stop and noticed a neighbor across the street staring at me intently, trying to figure out who the new intruder was in her comfortable little Phoenix-area suburb. Sweat was pouring down my face- it was humid and had just rained. So much for the desert. I walked inside to the family eating the breakfast that had recently been prepared. My white shirt had blood and dirt on it. They ate eggs; I went to the shower. Merry 'Christmas Eve' Eve.

Ok, let me back up a second. Now that I'm in Arizona, I finally get a chance to sit down and take a breath from all the travel of the past week. Our flight came in around 1:30am Central time, after a flight of naps and reading Sherman Alexie (sorry if my tone seems more sarcastic in this post- I'd like to think I'm inspired). One week ago from today I graduated from college. Well, technically they gave me a paper telling me my degree would come in the mail in a few weeks, provided I finished all my classes, but let's not get caught up in semantics. I shook the hand of the school President I've never met, told him thank you when he congratulated me, and then I walked past a bunch of unfamiliar faces of parents, and sat down with a bunch of kids who were freshman when I started my junior year at UND. I could feel my heart slowly pounding through my neck as I sat there, watching grand marshals sitting up front with their doctoral robes and poofy hats reserved only for academic royalty. Each name called was followed by either a light applause or WOOOOOOO YEAH AAABBBBBYYYY YOU DID IT BABY GIRL I LOVE YOU WOOOOOOOOOO, all depending on how your family would choose to present themselves around thousands of other people. Every time we needed to stand up in order to hear a song we weren't familiar with or listen to an enthusiastic speech from someone we've never met, I got light-headed because I ran an hour this morning and couldn't bring a water bottle in with me.

Oh yeah, I woke at 6 and ran this morning. It was all gravel and cold, with a hint of stars overhead. I only came across one man out working- he was wearing Carhart and I was wearing Asics, so it was a tradeoff. I did my usual winter running style where I run into the wind until right before I feel frostbite coming on, and then I turn around and enjoy the wind at my back for the other half. I get back whenever ice has sufficiently covered my entire face, and after joining with Ingrid to send her niece off to the morning bus, I collapse back for a long nap. People say you can sleep when you're dead, but you can do it when you're alive too. Well, I slept so hard that the line between the two was as fuzzy as my head when I woke up. Can we agree that I was only a little late for graduation because the train held us up in Grand Forks?

After visiting my "new home"*, it was off to Fargo for graduation dinner and a short Christmas with my family. Fortunately, the Bison were playing so the interstate was packed, while the eateries were quiet. The long table next to ours at Johnny Carino's was another UND grad, so Fargo benefited wholly from UND's graduation. After the ritual of complaining about the cold and commenting on the music and atmosphere of the restaurant, we got down to eating, opening some presents, and calling it a night. Next day was off to northern Minnesota for Christmas with Ingrid's fam.

After driving more hours into the north woods, burning fossil fuels while discussing renewable energy, we were able to calm down for a day. This gave me a chance to explore the new area. We were tucked into the little lake outside of Grand Rapids, near the Mesabi trail. I decided to check it out, only to realize that it was completely covered in snow. Check. Next I went around the outskirts of town to find small highways or gravel roads to run on, but the only roads in and out of town were the main highways with no sidewalks. Check. Next I...aw screw it; it's -6F and getting colder with this front pushing through and my knee is sore. I headed back to warmth, food, Sherman Alexie, and Settlers of Catan (it's more of an addiction than a lifestyle, to be sure). The next day included a 7 hour drive home, a day off from running, and a pretty sweet cross-section of the northern United States and it's daunting picture of job loss in small towns, job creation in big towns, and light pollution to block our imagination the stars. It gets pretty dark in the winter without light.

The next day brought another 7 hour drive, this one to north central Montana to visit some friends with my days off after 'graduating'. The morning started off with a small excursion on the skis, which has been more and more fun over time, even though I still don't have good form and my knee is getting sore as a result. We have so much snow right now in the central and northwestern North Dakota, and more is promised soon. For the winter outdoor enthusiast, it's heaven. For the other 87% of the population, not so much. I'm with the former. I fly down the trails that I've worked to make, scaring up deer that have to bumble through the deep snow. I always wonder what it would be like to chase them. I hear Ingrid come down the road and speed back so we can get on the road. We do, and we fly through North Dakota; slow down around Williston because of snow and the exhaustive fun of being a little car in a trashed, destroyed, oil-boom landscape where money trumps everything; and then fly through Montana, slowing down occasionally for the drivers with the gall to only drive 5 mph over the speed limit. All said, we go through 3 different Indian Reservations and end the night by playing Settlers of Catan in Havre.

The penultimate day of our trip brought us down to Great Falls, Montana to visit a friend, before coming back up to Havre (pronouned HAVE-UR, not HAAV-RAY) for another night of S.O.C. Finally, I was able to lace up the New Balance Trail Minimus for another day of running, borrowing Ingrid's friend's fitbit because I didn't bring my GPS watch and my regular watch died on me (so young). Exploring the town showed Great Falls to be incredibly...average. There were little parks here and there with grass enough to wish that I could run on it, but even though it was 46F and melting, there was enough snow to convince me otherwise. The usual restaurants painted main street- Subway, DQ, McDonalds, etc...I was trying find my way down to the Missouri River, which goes through town and produces some cool small gorges on each side. The Missouri starts in the Rockies and meanders all the way through Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota, and all the way to St. Louis, before forming an alliance with the Mississippi and working together to get to the Atlantic. The roads that follow the Missouri are usually called the 'Lewis and Clark Trail', because driving a vehicle with a 6L engine across the prairie near the river (containing multiple dams and resulting lakes) is somehow similar to dragging a dredgeboat up against the current for months, taking wildlife along the river and trading alcohol (illegally) with the Natives. Oh well, the drive into Montana was our little expedition- we just weren't reporting to the President.

Great Falls has mountains in the distance, and as I ran towards the edge of town, I wanted to run to them, run up them, and let them call me in. I wanted to go west to Glacier NP and disappear into the vast wilderness, away from the tourists that congregate in the valleys. Instead, I saved my knee and headed back to the house and ate a banana and played with a cute little dog instead. To each their own; I am who I am- a man with flaws. Ingrid and I headed back up to Havre, spent the night, and drove the 7 hour drive back to North Dakota the next day. When we got back, we could have sat down and relaxed; we could have unpacked and cleaned up our messes; we could have watched a movie together after a week of driving, visiting, and hurrying; but no, we went for a run. The stars here were beautiful, the galaxies streaking overhead and the western sky twinkling as we kept moving. It's here on the run that we remember all of our memories together- how our relationship was built on that sacred time. For the time being, out on a country road in the middle of nowhere North Dakota, we can be who we want to be- we can be silly, funny, bouncy, dumb, angry, sad, happy, hungry, extravagant, still hungry, or tired. Odds are, most days we fit most of those qualifiers. Odds are, we're ok with it. The time we can spend together after long days of travel is crucial, if not necessary. The pizza can wait, the presents can wait, the Netflix can wait- for now, the sound of our shoes scratching on gravel and the stars above head is all that matters. We hold hands.

As I scrape mud off of my bare feet, I look at the palm trees around me. After another four hour drive across North Dakota, a flight to Denver, and a flight to Phoenix, I am here to stay for a few days. I can't help but think back to yesterday morning, when I got a morning run in as the glow of morning hit the horizon. The colors of the sky started deep red, blended into a bright orange, and morphed into a sleepy blue. The last of the stars shone next to the half moon, and the only sound was the wind. The snow didn't stir, and the open lake still lazily floated east. Those will stay as some of my favorite memories. Now, after a warm, humid run, I look at my body. I was running barefoot on compacted dirt next to a asphalt path next to a canal, and my feet were quite dirty as a result of some of the mud. I relished the opportunity to run barefoot again, and so once I got back to the cement of the town, I kept my shoes in my hands. I was enjoying running barefoot so much that I didn't pay attention to a large metal sign standing by the sidewalk. I moved to the side briefly to avoid it, but it wasn't enough, and I smoked it with my right elbow as I pumped my arm forward. The pain didn't seem like much, and I was really self-conscious about running barefoot on a sidewalk in an unfamiliar place, so I didn't think much of it. When I arrived at the house, I noticed blood running down my arm to my hand, blood on knee, and mud on my calf and feet. I paused for a second- this is who I am. And ya know what? I wouldn't have it any other way.


*Direct quote from the CEO of the UND Alumni Association referring to the new Alumni Center on Campus, where they encouraged us to come get snacks and we were treated with sugar cookies that gave me diabetes and trendy, hashtagged photo frames to take pictures with.