It happened again today.  That little flicker of pull back.  That get soft, less risky, less wanting to get outside my comfort zone kind of reaction to something that normally I would do.  I didn't run outside in the first snow today, yet.  I did not follow a tradition I have had for years - to go out into the first real snow (not a flake here and there) and put in some miles.  Actually my run still lies in front of me tonight.  What will I do?

For the first time in my life, driving home from work in 35 degree, windy, wet snowiness, I said to myself, no way in hell I'm running outside in this!  As soon as the word hell reverberated inside my head I laughed at my wimpy thoughts!  That thought really is not akin to who I am and how I have lived my life.  I have shoved, pushed and conquered irregardless of circumstances much of the time. 

Just over the weekend I was recounting to my husband my yearly tradition of running in the first snowfall - why I always do it.  There is something exhilarating, connective to nature about being absorbed into the harshness that is absolutely soul cleansing.  I so get those Polar Bear plunge participants.  There is a bit of I am doing this because I can in it too.

Today, for the first time in my middle years, I actually thought; it's windy, cold, blowy, dark, had a long day at work, the treadmill will do almost as good.  I am disgusted with myself.  Today's weather would have been nothing for me last cold running season.  In fact, I've run in such conditions that drivers are crawling by with snow blowing so hard that they are looking at me like I might be a crazy person as I run past them.  What is my problem on this first bitter day?  I am growing soft.  Oh geez!

Excuses become a snow fence of sorts in all areas of my life if I let them.  I mean, the more things I excuse myself from doing the more barricades there is to get through to do the thing I know I should do.  My first blustery day run is one of those things. 

What if I go from choosing, through my candy-ass line of reasoning and excuses, to not run outside tonight to then succumbing to elasticized pants.  Or maybe not pushing myself will lead to not cleaning the house, not eating right, not pulling that chin hair out that for some reason wants to show itself as I speed toward 50 years of age.   Maybe it is just a downhill tumble without my first cold blast run outside.  I don't want to cause the dominoes to fall.

With those thoughts, I have just decided to strap on my blinking light and do a few miles in the dark cold night.  When I lay my head down in bed tonight I can feel that I followed my ritualistic tradition which makes me feel vitally alive.  It will help ensure that age hasn't begun to pelt its way into my resolve through wimpy excuses.

We do risk less things as we age.  I'm not ready to be that person yet.  Baby, it's cold outside:)

1 comment:

  1. Did you leave your blinking red light on?