So two weeks ago we had a bit of a cold snap. It didn’t come as a surprise either. Actually it was so widely and breathlessly predicted by the media you might have thought we were about to witness an apocalyptic climate event from a Hollywood movie. There was a lot of rain forecast but I really wanted to get a run in with my friend, Naomi. I hadn’t managed much running since my last race so I was really keen to shake out for a longish run, plus Naomi is always brilliant company to run with (she is also far too photogenic for my liking, so I always look very average next to her, but that is forgivable). Still as the weekend got closer the forecasts continued to get worse and worse. I must have flirted with the idea of a raincheck more seriously than conservative politicians flirt with Neo-Nazis, but I just kept coming back to the fact that I’ve run in the rain before and once I get started it is often barely noticeable. I woke up Sunday morning to the sound of loud rain on my roof. I checked my phone, thinking I wouldn’t have been totally unhappy if Naomi had decided to cancel, but she hadn’t.
Driving out, I noticed the weather clear a little for a while and dared to dream I might have dodged a bullet form the rain gods- until I got to the Tasman bridge and the rain returned with the kind of venom Alan Jones normally reserves for female public figures. I pulled in and parked a few moments later, with a steady rain falling, but I had to admit it probably wasn’t as bad as I had pictured it might be. That didn’t make getting out of the car in any way pleasant though. But we were there now so it was time for a run. And sure enough I soon warmed up and forgot about the rain. As always, we chatted almost non-stop so I soon forgot about the weather. After the first twenty minutes the rain actually stopped and we ran the next two hours in mostly sunshine. However this isn’t a story about running (but thanks for the company Naomi- it’s always a pleasure to run with you). So many times through my life, in many different contexts, I have looked ahead to events in the future and worried about how difficult or unpleasant they will be. Sometimes I have been right, but many times I have been wrong. The occasions I have found most upsetting have been when I have talked myself out of doing something because I’ve been worried about consequences that may have never even happened or have been nowhere near as bad as I expected. I don’t think I’m alone in these types of self-limiting behaviours, nor am I saying anything revolutionary or groundbreaking in telling this story. I think we are usually smart enough to identify it in ourselves. But I do think it is a story worth sharing. I’m glad to say I have grown a lot braver and stronger in recent years and rarely succumb to this kind of thinking anymore, but it is still something I sometimes fall victim to- when I am not vigilant against it. And that I why I share the story. To speak to anyone reading this who is worried about an upcoming challenge and thinking about changing their plans; to anyone feeling anxiety about something in the future they can’t easily avoid; and more generally, to those of you who deny yourselves opportunities because of fears of what may happen. I’m not saying things turn out rosy all the time and I would not seek to trivialise the things that worry you, but I would urge you to take heart that often things will turn out better than you might expect if you let them. Good luck.
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