I Finally Found My Wagon

Welp, I done fell off my wagon. 

Like, I was rolling off behind it down the road so fast and hard I didn’t even realize what happened.  If it wasn’t for the cloud of dust I saw blowing off toward the sunset I might not have ever seen it go. 

I slept funny on my neck. That’s how it started. Then before I knew it, a low pressure system socked in with days of battleship gray skies set in and my mood plummeted. 

And crashed. 

And I didn’t even want to run. 

Which is rare indeed. 

Yesterday I told my husband I was going for a run this morning. We normally check in every evening and discuss plans, and I sincerely planned to run this morning. 

But when this morning came I really didn’t want to.  Like total dread. 

It was a good thing I had built in some accountability, because otherwise I might have just sat around. 


But I went because Mike expected me to. 

I’d even told him I was going for a long run, so I was really stuck. 

It was sprinkling, and I hate running in the rain. And I do mean hate.  But I went. 

And it went better than expected. 

I caught a few Pokémon and hatched a few more. All told I trudged about 9 miles. 

And my mood?  Well, I don’t feel like crying for the first time in days, that’s gotta count for something, right?  

I know it’s not the case for everyone, and I know that not everyone can do it, but a good run is the best drug I can imagine. It literally fixes my brain. 

And once again I am thankful. 


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