I did not run this whole weekend, because I've been tired and dealing with some out of control girl problems that my body has decided to throw at me lately. Every morning, I peeked outside and thought, Please let it be storming. Then it'll give me an airtight excuse to not run. Of course, it wasn't raining, not once this entire weekend, so I just slunk back to bed and tried to quiet the judging voices in my head. Last night, I told myself that I would get up and go, no matter what. Except that, of course, there is a severe thunderstorm this morning and now I'm all dressed and ready in a sports bra with nowhere to go, watching the flashes of lightning and listening to the thunder (Tommy says "whoaaaaaaa" each time it thunders).
And I'm annoyed. Annoyed because I wanted and needed to run. Annoyed because the aforementioned girl problems are still out of control and exhausting. Annoyed because we had plans to go to the beach today. Annoyed because as I'm typing this, Tommy is sprawled on me with his fingers jammed in my mouth and if I could just get 40 minutes to run, I'd be much happier about that.
Instead, I'm feeling the house shake with thunder and feeling my grievances build inside of my chest like so much stormy weather. With every storm, there's calm, and I know this one will pass and I can find a calm moment to squeeze in a run. Thankful for the other calms right now, too. A successful doctor's visit with Tommy's neurologist, where everything is status quo. Acceptance that sometimes he might have seizures, but the days, weeks, and months that he does not have a seizure far outweigh the day in which he does have a seizure. We are lucky. The calm in a sixth wedding anniversary and a much-needed, way overdo time out with my husband that will be long enough for us to talk about things other than the boys, but just long enough for our conversation to end with how much we miss them.
So, I'm sitting on the couch wearing a sports bra and those tiny athletic socks, watching it thunderstorm. It can't storm forever, right?