It's sunny this morning. The weather yesterday was a near 40 degree jump from the week before, albeit rainy and with a dose of tornado warnings because, well, it's Ohio so why not.
Today is less warm so far, but almost all of the snow has melted and for a brief moment, the belief that spring is around the corner doesn't feel so foolhardy.
However, I shouldn't be waking up in Ohio this morning, beautiful weather or not. I should be somewhere in Chattanooga with my sister, on my way to the Disney Princess Half Marathon in Orlando.
My big 30th birthday celebration is a bust.
When we'd made these plans over eight months ago, my sister and I, it was before my mom up and moved across the country, taking with her the only childcare I had for any weekday adventures. It was before I'd run the Nationwide Columbus Half so I didn't even know that my body was capable (which is actually why I ran that half -- to see if my body was capable).
It was before I found out about Kyle's latest transgression, right when I was supposed to start training. It was before the polar vortex had us bring Sylvester inside, before it was obvious he was so sick and I spent all of the money I'd been saving to ease the end of his life.
And it was before I caught the villainous illness Kyle brought home that incapacitated me for nearly a full week with a fever that left me delirious and a cough that keeps me from being able to go up and down my stairs without nearly passing out.
If I were in better spirits, I'd say that this was Fate winding her way with my life, keeping me away from Florida with all her might.
But I'm barely round the bend of this illness, watching as Tova comes down with it, six days out of what I'd hoped to be the best birthday of my adult life thus far, realizing that I'll be spending it alone save for my oblivious kids, yet another hopeful dream dashed.
It's just getting harder and harder to see a light at the end of this tunnel.