Rain poured down on the pavement as I looked out the window. Zoey clearly has the right idea. I already sent the kid off to school, washed the dishes, started the laundry, and checked on my runners, which means that all I needed to do was put on my running shoes and go outside.
But, that’s easier said than done.
I was overly motivated yesterday: I went to spin class at the Y, swam 1600 meters, and went for a run before dinner. For some reason, I had boundless energy! I have absolutely none of that today. I stared at the rain outside and took a deep breath while still in my pajamas. I badly wanted a cup of coffee to drink while I sat my butt down on the sofa.
I decided to run anyway. I went upstairs and changed into my running tights, a long-sleeved shirt, and a ball cap to keep my face sort of dry in the rain. I put my watch on, but hid it under my sleeve–I didn’t plan to turn it on, but the OCD me couldn’t leave it on the dresser; I wanted to count my steps even if I wasn’t tracking my run. I tucked my keys in the pouch and left my phone on the table by the door and went outside.
It was a strange feeling not turning on my watch and waiting for it to catch the satellite signal–I could just run. So that’s what I did. The rain fell harder as I ran up the hill to the trail. A stray car splashed water up on the sidewalk. I dodged puddles left and right. I didn’t care how fast or how slow I ran–just that I ran. And that’s enough.
Go without some time, and let me know how your run felt.