And so we’ve finally made it to the new year, and nobody should be shocked to learn that I don’t feel any wiser than when I went to bed last night. But I got to wake up this morning and experience the perfect serenity that followed a firecracker-laden midnight that had me stirring and wondering just how so many Romans should be trusted with explosive devices while running on nothing but alcoholic enterprise.  Happy 2017, indeed.

I feel barely qualified to get myself around this city; while I listen to catches of street conversation and find it easy to tease out the meaning of single words, I don’t get the overall sense of what is being communicated.  It’s funny, even as I write this, I feel as though I could say the same about my experience of the English language, flexed with my own people. Sometimes it’s not so much about fluency in grammar and linguistic structure, but it’s more about an underlying comprehension that is rooted in the mastery of nuance. Life is obnoxiously fun in that way.

In any case, I have neither the dexterity of language nor nuance going for me here in Italy. Still, I chalk it up as a sound idea to step outside for a run through the morning streets.

This year, if the gods permit me, I will turn forty years old. And the prospect, to be completely honest, leaves me pretty stoked. You never have a clue of what’s coming up on the horizon when you are young, and if you had told me that I’d be crawling out of bed in Rome and cobbling together a pajama/sports bra/shorts assemblage of kit to support a 35℉/1℃ run, then younger Megan would be rolling her eyes and thinking, “What? How? Why?”

But I’ve been on this path for so long that no matter where my feet happen to fall, it’s only a matter of focusing on whatever experience I find myself in. Whether I’m skirting wild turkeys on Falmouth’s Main Street or running on cobbled roads somewhere a bit further away, it’s all fantastic. Either way, I feel like a forty year old student who finds masochistic joy in confounding my brain by trying to pick up a few lines of a new language. Or taking to streets both familiar and uncertain to ascertain just how different surroundings interpret the concept of quiet.

It seems silly, but because I’ve built a somewhat single person life that is enriched by the comings and returning of friends and family, these morning moments are the ones that fill me with the most wonder. But before you think that I’m listing the complete keys to my happiness, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the other component that comes with a great New Years experiences.

Last night, before going to bed a solid hour before midnight, I sat in my hotel room alongside my dad and brother and laughed my ass off at the play-by-play text conversation that was bubbling up with the rest of my siblings across the Atlantic.  Family, whether they drive me a little or a lot crazy, go a long way in terms of keeping me in check and reminding me that learning about life comes in more forms than just tackling a few days in a foreign land. I don’t know how I’d continue doing what I do without their unbridled commentary.

It’s a cold and quiet start to 2017 here in Rome.  The winter sun is now painting deceptively warm looking strips of light across the River Tiber and the Eternal City’s many facades.  I have no idea what this year will do to any of us, but for me at least I’ll continue to try and remain focused on the present. This will be no easy feat. Every moment- whether it’s a solo run this morning or a ridiculous WhatsApp conversation with loved ones, each of these flashes are to be remembered. Nothing is ever promised, so for now at least I’ll take this magnificent start to January.