Yes, my dad texts me photos of the television so I don’t miss the good stuff. And I love him for it.
While my family up in New England continues to get dumped on with snow and ticker tapes, the weather in DC was wicked warm. And when I say warm, I mean the upper 40s with the sun out shining; today was downright tropical for this time of the year!
I work in an office space that doesn’t have windows, so I didn’t get a chance to appreciate the day until I dragged my lethargic and mentally drained body outdoors to meet a co-worker/friend for a short run to the Lincoln Memorial. Sounds great, right? Then you’ll think me a wastoid when I tell you that right up until the time to go, I wasn’t super keen on running.
It’s just been so dead outside.
All afternoon I scanned the weather reports to get a feel for the temperature. The Internet told me that it was a nice day, but from the confines of my building, I had felt vaguely chilled all day in my polyester uniform. Intellectually I knew the Capital Weather Gang meteorologists were (mostly) right, but emotionally I still kind of refused to believe it. When it reached the appointed hour, I begrudgingly went to change into running clothes before intersecting with my friend by the escalators.
Call it the Bad Attitude Parade, but we weren’t to the exit before the two of us started trading stories about how we weren’t feeling up to the run. A bit of dread and a bit of exhaustion—the kind that doesn’t come from physical exertion—seemed to hang over us. Earlier that day, in the pitch black of 5:30AM in our homes, we had traded texts and committed to meet up later for a good workout. “Bring your PT gear to work!” So now here we were, making use of our Lycra and subjecting our flagging energy supply to the great outdoors.
Stick in the mud. Or Potomac.
Stepping into the February sun, I was a bit taken aback by how kind the weather really was. The sky and air had shifted from the gloomy gray and rain that had practically permeated the past seven days. The overall climate here has been largely shit as of late, and while I strive to never match my demeanor with the elements, they really do tend to wear me down. Today wasn’t like that. February 4th felt like springtime.
As we broke into a trot, I’ll be honest and say that it still took a little while to get into a groove. Going out for a run is hardly ever one of those magical experiences that flips on as soon as you take the first couple of steps. The transformation is gradual, and it is not until you suddenly-already feel better that you realize that this is exactly what your heart and head had been screaming for all damn day.
I’m a bit of a lone wolf when it comes to going out for a run. Still, I can’t tell you how valuable I find the times when I’ve got a sound running companion by my side—one who can listen to me hash things out—one where I can help to provide some perspective on whatever it is he or she may be going through at the time. It’s a two-way street, and especially at this dim time of the year, I’d say that these interactions are more than necessary for my overall wellbeing. They’re medicinal.
If you stay indoors and just continue to tell yourself that the weather outside is cold, windy, and uninviting, then you’ll never give yourself the chance to find out if this is actually the truth. Inertia can be a really toxic thing, and this is the reason that accountability and commitment are so important. It would have been so easy for me to remain at my cubicle and scroll the Twitter feed for updates on Boko Haram’s latest massacre in Cameroon. But I do enough of that stuff as it is on a daily basis. I need a break from the doom and gloom.
Winter mornings at Memorial Bridge.
By the time we ticked off the first mile, our afternoon run did start to feel easier. The sun warmed our bodies and brains, and we found the conversation easy to intersperse between our choppy inhales and exhales. Even as the roaring traffic on Memorial Bridge tried to drown us out—and my friend mentioned on more than one occasion that this run was killing her—I knew that neither of us regretted the decision to break free and get some fresh air.
The cold weather’s coming back. Hell, it might already be here—but at least for this day, I’m able to reflect on a few hours of precious Vitamin D and be grateful that I got to experience them. Grateful that I had a good friend nearby who would get me out of my little windowless world. And the icing on the cake is that we got some good exercise and unloaded a few oppressive thoughts that had been knocking around inside of our heads.
I’m looking forward to warmer weather, sure- but at the same time, I’m going to remember the Before and After feelings that bookmarked this midwinter day. I’ll remember that two simple things, commitment and accountability, can really make a difference in how one colors their life. Ticker tape parades are all well and fantastic, but I can’t count on those duck boats to roll around my hood every day. Or even every year. I’ll take my friends, as well as a few more texted photos from home to keep me in balance.
My brother’s morning commute at home. He wins.