I was really quite reluctant this morning. I bundled up and put on my running shoes, anyway. I did not regret it.
Sweat is some serious self-care for my mood. I don’t have to be super hardcore about it. I don’t even know how far I go, or what my pace is. I’m not training for anything. I just know I’m about 100% less miserable when I’ve pushed myself a bit, physically. Sometimes breaking a sweat outdoors means I run, sometimes it means I stacked wood for an hour. Always, it means my day starts off better than it would have otherwise.
Someday soon it will mean I’m snowshoeing. Good medicine.