by Georgina Gamble ’29 on February 5, 2026
Opinion - Campus
Nothing can quite compare to the feeling you get when you run down Esplanade in Pelham Manor in New York.
There is something special about the way the world looks when you are running down that two-way street and all the ingredients for a perfect run blend together. The way the hot concrete pounds beneath your feet, and how the early evening sun bounces off of the trees and reflects on the roofs of the gorgeous houses. The feeling of your lungs working just right, and if you close your eyes, it almost feels like you’re flying because you are running so fast. Your playlist—some conglomerate of Gracie Abrams, house music, and Charli XCX—blasts in your headphones.
I don’t think anyone quite gets Esplanade like I do. Esplanade makes me forget all the sweat sticking to my skin and how I want a glass of water so badly I can almost taste it. When I’m running on that street in early August, I shake my head at the fact that I whined as I laced up my sneakers because I would’ve rather been lying in bed.
I daydream about my runs back home a lot more than I think the average person does. I have new views during my runs now—I traded the sprawling front lawns dotted with hydrangeas for a snow-covered campus with trees all too barren for my liking.
I like to miss my hometown. I like to feel the lump in my throat when I remember how invincible I felt in the days before I knew how cold a New England winter could truly get. My summer tan is still there if I squint hard enough.
Contrary to popular belief, treadmill runs aren’t all that bad. My runs feel a bit different—a bit more stationary than I am used to—but sometimes, I get that familiar feeling in my breathing that almost makes me feel the hot August sun if I close my eyes. I don’t see anything wrong with nostalgia. I think it’s healthy for the insulation of your winter coat to contradict with the feeling of ultraviolet rays on your skin. I’m sure that someday I will yearn for these winter months too, and I will miss the first time I discovered how such thick blankets of snow can hush the world, just as my music drowns out the sound of my footsteps on the concrete.