Trinkyi Through the Eyes of a Runner.

The sound of smiles resonate in a deafening roar around me. As the bitter cold chills my bones, I stop to look up at the white sky. How can such menial precipitation mixed with the finality of a semester bring so much joy?

It amazes me every year, around this time how the world becomes superficially pure. The soft blanket that covers this filthy world brings such peace for a moment. Even the talk and giggles as friends jaunt through the aput[1] seem like soft reverent whispers, insulated murmurs.

Eskimos have over 50 words for this phenomenon and blessing. Something so simple can bring such joy.

Yet we let this feeling fade as the chill sets in, as we step in that unwelcoming shlim[2].

This serenity flees our all too hardened hearts. This elegant attla[3] become naklin[4].

We let this happen. The murmurs have turned into distressing shouts. We argue it is our nature. We just settle that life isn’t beautiful nor could ever be.

But it is. Oh so beautiful.

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Definitions of Eskimo Words:

Trinkyi- first snow of the year

[1]aput-snow on the ground

[2] shlim-slush

[3] attla- snow that as it falls creates nice pictures in the air

[4] naklin-forgotten snow

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The Urban Jungle Called Philadelphia Through the Eyes of a Runner.

As my feet pound the paved earth below me mile after mile, I know I am home. This beautiful city in the past two years has become my comfort, my friend, and my home.

The boisterous noises of sirens, people shouting to their neighbors, and the rushing masses to and fro are not as lively today. The peace of winter and the cold seems to have calmed this beautiful, exciting city, if only for just this morning.

This time of day is magical, as the chill of the dark morning breaks into the warmth of sunlight as it peeks over the buildings that tower stories above my presence.

These buildings make me feel so small yet so powerful. The power comes from the hopes that one day I will have office in one of these high rise buildings. One day I will be the person running to and from work with my briefcase. But for now, as a student, Philadelphia has a way of humbling you.  At least it has humbled me.

Coming into Wharton, I was the big dog: the one person from my small rural town who was going to an Ivy League school, the girl who did everything and everyone knew, the smart one, the overachiever.

Getting to Wharton, I was the smallest possible fish: the girl from small rural town, the girl who wasn’t about to raise her hand and speak in class because she was terrified of being considered dumb, the unsure one, the outsider.

I felt like I was on top of the world when I got into Wharton, but once here I found myself being challenged in ways that were difficult, wonderful and often very stressful. I knew I needed to find an outlet for the days my challenges were difficult or too stressful for me to merely study away.

I had always been told, “the four years of college are the best years of your life.” But for me it has been very stressful. It was the spring semester of my freshman year that I decided to embrace the fact that college is not only about classes and learning, but fun and exploration too. So I sought out an outlet to release some of the stresses from the challenges I was facing in classes: I would begin running.

This outlet commenced as just that, an outlet, but has transformed into so much more than that; running has become a passion. Most people run for health or training for a race; for me, I run to explore. 

And wow! Exploring Philadelphia has been such a joy and excitement! With miles and miles under my feet and on my sneakers, I have seen countless weddings and historical reenactments in the beautiful district of Old City, run by the Schuylkill river along Boathouse Row as the brave souls brace the 8 degree windy mornings preparing for their crew regattas, experienced many street fairs thrown by local artists or neighborhoods, seen the children at play in elementary schools in West Philadelphia, watched as tourists take on the great Rocky Steps, been in the midst of the hustle and bustle of Center City as Market Street employees come back from their lunches, experienced the lively, celebratory atmosphere of South Street as the street performers begin their nightly acts, been shown the homey towns of Mannyunk, East Falls, and Fishtown by residents of these towns, said hello to the animals while passing the Philadelphia Zoo, and on and on.

But my personal favorite thing I’ve been to say I’ve done in my exploration is this: I’ve come to the point where I can say “I know this city. This is my city. I belong here. I’m a resident of the city not just a temporary student in this city.”

Exploring Philadelphia has been one of the best parts of my time at Wharton and Penn. My fellow students will sometimes tell me they haven’t been off campus all year and I question them, why? Being at Wharton and at the University of Pennsylvania we are being given the best opportunities a student could have, academically, socially, and for our careers. But that is not all we are given. We are given the city. Philadelphia is at our fingertips. We are given wonderful culture, amazing people with unique stories, breathtaking views, and places that are just waiting to be explored.

As my feet pound against the cobblestone brick of Locust Walk, I see Hunstman Hall and my dorm in the distance. As I pass a friend I take comfort, I am home on this campus and in this city. At least for these four short years…

Here I can be me: I can be Melanie Smith, the small town girl who is finding herself in the City of Brotherly Love.

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