I woke up Saturday morning and growled at the temperature.

My legs were itching for a run, but the rest of my body said, “Absolutely not. You are not going outside.”

The thought of running with snot icicles hanging from my nose and frost around my eyelashes brought the covers back over my head.

When I finally got up and glanced at the calendar, I let out another groan.

Last week, Campus Ministry announced they were hosting an Iraq Peace Vigil on the Interstate I-94 footbridge Saturday afternoon.

Forgetting the impulsive nature of Minnesota winters, I nonchalantly scribbled it on my calendar. Silly me.

Puddles that formed last week from melted snow were skating rinks Saturday morning.

I innocently checked my e-mail thinking the vigil might have been cancelled. No luck.

Why bother going? Because lately I’ve been avoiding my commitments. It’s easy to stay home when it’s cold outside.

As I contemplated my decision, junior Lynsi Pasutti stopped by my apartment and asked if I was going to the vigil. How could I say no?

Unfortunately, by the time we arrived it was already ending early due to frigid winds blowing over the exposed bridge and a gallon tub of hot chocolate waiting in somebody’s car.

Four brave vigilantes greeted us with encouraging smiles when they saw us.

“We’re going to do this again,” they promised as homemade posters were piled into the trunk of a car and somebody poured Lynsi and me a cup of cocoa.

Seeing their excited faces made up for my cold toes. It felt good to show up for something.

That night I found myself lingering in Seton, talking late with friends. Most of us were abroad last semester.

Now that we’re home, our legs are restless, everything is cold and nothing is quite how we remember it. I find myself searching for the woman I was in Europe who was braver and louder than this Midwestern version.

I miss her on cold days the same way I miss ocean salt and mouth watering tomatoes.

But I also remember feeling eager last semester to see my friends at home again, the ones kind enough to offer their warm apartment on a February night or brave a chilly Saturday afternoon for a cup of hot cocoa. I missed the snow too.

As I finish this column the thermometer is rising. Before we know it the sunbathers will be flocking to the tundra.

I’ll be able to run whenever I want, but for now, I appreciate the cold for its ability to draw me together with my friends.

So drink some hot cocoa with your Valentine and a few friends tonight. I’ll be doing the same.

This is the opinion of Jolene Brink, a CSB junior.