No Such Thing As An Ugly Day

On Thursdays I take my daughter to her Mime class (my son's running gag to her is "you need to practice your Mime!", on account of that she's our noisy child and he's our silence-craving introvert, LOL) and usually I head out the door with a fellow mom for what we've come to call the Thursday Mime Run. Yesterday though she didn't appear so after heading inside for a drink of water, I paused in the doorway to survey the thunderous black clouds and an impressive amount of water falling from the sky. A mom scuttling out the door to her minivan said "Isn't it a shame it's such an ugly day?"

I thought about that as I began to run. At first it seemed as if she might be right. It hasn't been very warm lately, and there's nothing like getting instantly soaked to the skin to put a damper on one's happy running feelings. Often when I'm confronted with a situation that is less than ideal however, I search for a phrase that I can dwell on that will change my attitude toward those circumstances. This time it was "the rain is washing all of my stress away and leaving me refreshed."

You know what? What you tell yourself is what you live. Misery evaporated and the rain became a beautiful and invigorating thing. I began to notice things, like how fresh everything smelled, how the air near the ground was still warm from reflected heat and the rain was turning to steam all around me, how some birds were still singing even in the downpour. I began to not just endure the rain but to revel in it, even to enjoy it. My pace quickened, I spread my arms in an embrace of the day and a smile broke out on my face. Ten minutes into the run, the clouds above me parted and rays of sunshine streamed down in place of the rain. A heron swooped overhead, fields of wildflowers looked spectacular in the stormlight, and a flicker alighted in the tree next to me, flashing his orangey wings. My feet were now virtually flying along the path by the river, my eyes taking in the water spilling over the banks, swollen from days and days of stormy weather, with the roar of the rapids blocking out all other sound.

By the time I was done, the sunny hole in the clouds was closing up, my clothes were almost dry, and the rain was sweeping back towards me from the clouds to the North, but I made it back to the studio before it could douse me again. Rather than run in an ugly day, I chose to see the beauty and had one of the best runs I can remember in a long time. It was a great reminder that we are what we choose to see and do.