If you know you'll be happy, just do it

I've never gone to bed telling myself that I wished I hadn't run that day, but I often go to bed telling myself that I wish I had.

Why is it so hard to do what we KNOW will make us feel happier in the end?  I suppose there are a thousand self-help books on this subject.  Don't worry.  This isn't a chapter from one of those.  If I'd read one, maybe I wouldn't keep making the same mistakes.  Then again, I suppose I probably would or there wouldn't be quite as many books published because we all would've kicked this bad habit of not doing what we know we really want to be doing day after day, or more likely, year after year.

Take running for example.  (And remember it's only one example.  I could talk about eating McDonald's, cleaning my closet, watching some stupid TV show, finding myself a dinner date when I'd rather be alone, staying in one town when I'm traveling and really getting to know it instead of listening to the little voice that tells me to move on and see it all....or wait a minute.  I've kicked that one, haven't I?)

Anyway, back to running.  I love to run. I love how I feel when I'm running.  I love seeing people that I know on the running path. I love seeing people that I don't know yet and wondering if one day I'll know them.  I love hearing my GPS watch beep every time I finish a mile.  I love how my running shoes feel.  I even love how they feel when it's raining and my hot feet keep the water inside my shoes warm.  I love feeling the breeze go through my sweaty hair on the days I'm not too embarrassed to take the ponytail out.  (It's kind of like skinny dipping.)  I love running in the snow.  I love running on super hot days and stopping to stretch and having my own real beads of sweat fall from my elbows and hit the ground.  The first time I felt it I was surprised. I thought it only happened to the athletes in Gatorade commercials. Anyway, you get the point.  I love to run.  So, why is it a struggle nearly every morning to get up and go when I know it's the thing that will make me happy?

I've never gone to bed telling myself that I wished I would've wasted more time lying awake in bed in the morning.  And I've never said that I'm in such great shape that an extra mile or so would have just put me over the perfection edge. I've never told myself that I'm glad I didn't see if the lake was calm or wavy or ferocious like those cold mornings I catch the waves crashing on the corrugated breakwall one indentation at a time like hammers in a grand piano hitting string after string to play a scale. (That sounds like a bad attempt at poetry which, if you've been following this blog, is nothing that I ever do.  But it really happens like that. Just stop and picture it for a second.  They crash, but not all at once. They really do fill each section one at a time, first really tall and loud and little by little shorter and quieter and it's like notes are playing. There is no less-flowery way to explain it. And speaking of flowers....) I know I'd be sad to miss the day that the daffodils had bloomed. And I'm certainly never happy to have missed a morning that the lion stood roaring for a few minutes in the zoo.

Get the picture?  I love running.  I actually can't think of one thing to say about running that I don't like.  Well, lately there has been one thing.  I've wasted my whole run trying to remember all the verses to "Twas the Night Before Christmas" because the only line that seems to keep repeating itself is the one about the bowl full of jelly shaking when Santa laughs.  At least mine only shakes when I run, something Santa probably wishes he could do.

So, you've heard it all.  I've said it a thousand times, now I've written it and I've reread it.  Do you think it will be any easier to get out of bed tomorrow morning?  Shouldn't yesterday's deliberation while looking out at the rain and finally deciding to just go and then  being greeted by a rainbow and the only 30 minutes of blue skies for the whole day be enough to remind me that in the end I'm definitely going to be happier if I run?  I don't really need a self-help book, do I?  I may not be lucky enough to catch the rainbow everyday, but I almost always find the pot of gold.