running in the rain

On Sunday, the first official day of spring, I went on a run in the early morning before church.

And precisely 7 minutes and 37 seconds into it, it started to rain. I wasn't even a mile from home, and I wanted to give up. The sky was falling on me, and I thought, 'What does this run matter?'

But I had another 52 minutes and 23 seconds to go.

Three things kept me from quitting at that moment:

1. I had a praise chorus stuck in my head, back from the church I grew up in—the Church of the Open Bible {so much better than the Church of the Closed Bible in terms of friendly churchy names}. It was a very clap-happy, bouncy, call and response kind of praise chorus that other people might hear and then think—my goodness, Christians are happy, exceedingly happy, people all the time. {But we aren't, of course.}
   
   This is the day {this is the day}
   That the Lord has made {that the Lord has made}
   I will rejoice {I will rejoice}
   And be glad in it! {and be glad in it!}
   
   With a song like that clipping me along, it was difficult to remain upset at the rain.
   
   Sure, I wanted it to be sunny like it had been on Saturday, the last official day of winter. But it wasn't. And that's all right. Spring is also about rain, so welcome spring. Welcome rain.
   
   Obvious Lesson #1: The sky will fall on you at some point. The sky will, in fact, fall on you just when you want it to be sunny. That's how it works sometimes. But you have to keep going, and maybe then along the way—as you keep moving forward—you'll find that you're okay with the change in the circumstances.
2. My friend Sara. We lived together for a year in college, and she made me my first mocha. We used to quote You've Got Mail to each other, and it was with her that I had some of those long, figuring-out-who-you-are conversations that you're supposed to have in college.
   
   And now Sara is a serious runner. Sara is running the Boston Marathon soon—for the second time—and I knew that she was probably running 20 miles on Sunday. 20 miles as I aimed for however far an hour would take me.
   
   I thought of her running through the winter, through ice, through blizzards, and I was inspired by my dear friend. I kept going.
   
   Obvious Lesson #2: Surround yourself with good people. They'll motivate you when you least expect it.
3. I knew I looked like a really committed runner as I pushed on through the rain. This one is selfish, I know. I don't need to show off my running to other people, but as I leapt over puddles and thought about how I probably had mascara running down my cheeks {it's not that I put on make-up for a run, oh no. I'd been too tired the night before to properly remove my make-up.}, I felt good.
   
   I felt healthy. I felt happy. I waved at every other runner I passed. Sometimes, I even did the double hand wave, for reasons I don't understand. Extra joy at seeing other committed runners?
   
   Obvious Lesson #3: Apparently focusing on the outside—on the way you appear to others—can be motivational at times.

The rain eventually stopped, but I didn't. I kept running.