Precipitate

There’s something about running in the pouring rain that brings out the hope in me.

I hate and love the rain. It’s gross, it’s cold, it’s wet, I don’t want to be out there. But really, I love the rain. My hate for the rain isn’t hate. It’s the fear of what the rain uncovers – symbolically, in my life.

When I started trying to overcome an eating disorder, I wrote a journal entry about why I loved the snow and hated the rain. Snow covers, hides, makes everything look perfect. What I had always done with my life, and at that time, with my body image. But the rain. The rain uncovers, washes out of hiding, pours out the mud. It’s messy. It can be difficult to clean up after. This is a simple analogy. We need more rain in our lives.

Today. I didn’t want to run. I wanted to stay inside where it was warm and dry and I had Netflix. God, doesn’t that say everything? But, lime jacket and bright blue hat on, I went out in that forsaken rain. My neighbor, outside the front door smoking, nodded. (I also imagine he thought, what the hell is she doing?) It took two steps before I knew I was about to have a good run. Past the boys cross country team, the long lines of cars sitting in traffic, the one other female runner in bright colors and reflectors. Before I knew it I was intentionally stepping in puddles.

Today. I needed more rain, metaphorically. And I got more rain, literally. I’m sitting on the floor, typing this to you, lime jacket and bright blue hat still on my head. Because these words flooded out of me on the last hill climb. This rain makes me hopeful. This rain makes me believe.

At the end of my run, the song playing was “Walking on Sunshine.” Take with that what you will.

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