Running in the Rain

I can't even count the number of happy, exciting, huge transitions and changes happening in my life right now. But despite that, I've been struggling with irritability and a little bit of my good old friend depression. It comes and goes a few times each day, and I am not pleased.

It's obvious why. It's June 3rd, and it's raining. It's been raining for at least 2 weeks straight (ok, it was sunny once last week), and not that typical Eugene mist. It's full-on pouring rain. When Andy got home from work this evening, I was armed with excuses about why I wanted to postpone tonight's run. All I had to do was point outside and he knew I didn't want to go.

But something sparked in me when he said he was going out there anyways, and I decided to go too. I really don't know where that fleeting desire came from, but it was there. I put on my shoes, a hat, and my windbreaker, which as it turns out is NOT waterproof, and went out into Waterworld.

I am SO glad I went. As I was running, it occurred to me that I would so much rather be out there treating myself to exercise than wallowing on the couch, feeling miserably sorry for myself for absolutely no reason.

When I was a kid, I was terrified of shots. Like, far worse than the average kid. I'd have a panic attack whenever my mom started driving in the direction of my pediatrician's office, even if she wasn't actually going there. One time, after a particularly dreaded booster shot, I told my mom that it hadn't been as bad as I'd expected at all. She made me write a letter to myself and sign it so she could show me next time.

This post is the adult version of that letter.

Dear Future Amy,

When in doubt, run. Even though you don't believe it, it will make you feel better.

Love, me