Cabin fever trumped rest and I went out for my first run since Sunday’s marathon, even in the face of Chicago’s near-record October cold and winds gusting at twenty miles per hour. For no particular reason, I headed out on the lower level of the museum peninsula, between Shedd Aquarium and the lake,  toward the Adler. I was the only one, and the run, the music and the crash of waves against the fish tank’s water wall inspired near-euphoria. One by one the water danced along, putting the man-made orchestrations of our finest fountains to shame, an urban Big Sur. And then, my solitude explained as one especially excited wave crashed higher than the others, showering me head to toe in cold water. My fears of freezing through the rest of the run were unfounded, though, as the heavy wind worked like a Dyson hand dryer on my clothes. Nevertheless, I returned on the high road, literally if not metaphorically, taking the parallel bike path where I watched the waves safely from above. Until that surly sea reached up to my higher perch and showered me once again.