Dear Weather,
Just dropping a line to say nice try. You think you can beat me, but you underestimate me. You must be forgetting that I'm a New Yorker; I'm a runner; I'm a woman. I'm stronger than I look. So go ahead, throw your spastic temps at me. Fire your blizzards, your sleet, your sunshine, your slush. I'll take it all in stride. I'll climb your snowdrifts and dodge your puddles. Remember, spring, I ride the subway every day. Compared to that you're nothing. I see your winds, your highs your lows, your angsty inconsistencies and unpredictable downpours.
Thing is, you I never underestimate. I know you're bigger than me. I know you’ve got tricks up your sleeve. I know you've got a force I can't match. But I know how to fight. I have an arsenal of layers in my closet, an army of peers in my corner, and a resilience you can't topple. I’ve got wind at my back and under my wings. So bring it on, spring weather. You can’t stop me. I’ll keep running.
Sincerely yours,
