Day 2,938 —Moment of Doubt— with a PICTURE of a BROKEN RADIO TOWER in the SNOW #723

 I walked to the door and opened it. I felt the wind and the rain overwhelm my senses, and I hesitated.

I closed the door and went back inside. I put my rain jacket on and kissed my daughter goodbye (why is she up so early today!?). She waved and said, “goodbye.” 

I remembered that it was going to get better and stepped outside. I was wearing my shorts and my sandals. My hands were cold and started feeling numb. I stopped dogging the puddles: I went through them. 

Now, I am cold and miserable a half-mile out. I think about how much longer this part will last. I slow down my breathing. I think about how it is easier to run in the rain when it starts during the run, as opposed to at the beginning.  

I stop noticing the rain. I stop noticing that I am cold, and it is over.