When the weather says NO

I must be insane.  I put on my running clothes, adding an extra layer because the weather channel said 36, feels like 25, and it was grey.  Grey is fine.  I get my clothes on, I'm stretching downstairs, when I hear this tapping sound.  Tapping.  Tap tap tap.  And it gets faster.  I look out the window to see that little bits of hail are coming down.  HAIL.  And it gets darker.  It's the middle of the day so the heat isn't on in the house and after yesterday's adventures in English heating systems, I'm not inclined to mess with the boiler again, so I'm resolved.  One lap around the park, however long that lap happens to be.  Fuck the grey.  Fuck the hail.  Fuck the weather channel.  I'm going running.  

I'm out on the path, my lungs are absolutely screaming because I've spent a whole week indoors enjoying the warmth of my relatives' traditional German cooking, cups of tea and coffee, snuggly times on the sofa.  My legs are so stiff it hardly seems possible that I've been up since 7:30 and walked to and from the tube station and all over Heathrow airport, my legs are sure they've been in bed till just now.  I'm not terribly cold until that wind picks up and starts whipping around my ears.  There are kids out on the playground, bundled up to their noses and I'm wishing I were one of them.  There's a beautiful golden retriever with his heavy winter coat, chasing a ball.  I wish I were him.  And then there are all the people in cars.  I really really wish I were one of them.  But no, I'm the nutball running on this cold January morning, freezing my earlobes off, until it happens.  

The huge cloud cover moves.  A little bit of blue begins to appear.  And then the sun comes out.

The beautiful, glorious sun comes out and shines down for the rest of my run.  I'm no longer wishing for death, or a car, or a golden retriever, or a parka, or a shot of Famous Grouse (that's another story), I'm so happy that the sun is out I almost stop running just so I can stand there in the warmth.  But I'm resolved, so I'm going to keep running until I get back to the flat.  

Anyone who says that seasonal affective disorder doesn't exist has never lived in a country where the primary weather is GREY.  This happened to me every time I lived somewhere with real winter.  I would sit inside, curled up doing nothing, drinking tea like it was going out of style, not talking to anyone, just slipping further into my yuck.  Well not this time.  Because this is 2009 and we're chasing away the crazy with new and renewed fervor.  And if it means putting on the running clothes when there's HAIL coming down (I think that was a test, I really do) and resolving to go and do that lap, no matter how much is hurts and no matter how much I'd rather be in bed or watching a full season of Buffy in my room, I'm gonna do it.  

Gratitude, again, because I'm so freakin grateful:

1.  public parks with walking/biking/running trails

2.  beautiful beautiful greens

3.  that I got more than 5 minutes of sunshine today

4.  large bathtubs

5.  marmalade