Why We Need To Get Over “Bad” Weather – And Just Get Outside

Between travel and unusually sunny weather this past fall and winter, I realized recently that I had essentially no rain time under my belt this season. So I made a goal to go out no matter what for the next few weeks. Certainly I would get myself outside on a wet day if I made it a mission. Rain in the forecast but craving a walk? Put on a waterproof jacket. Interested in camping but the forecast looks spotty? Pack some extra dry wool socks and go anyway.

Sticking to this plan, for the last month and a half, I have gotten outside whenever possible, telling myself that the weather will not determine my motivation. And yet, it has remained sunny – my plan foiled. Even one weekend when the clouds felt imminent, I still got through it with only a touch of sprinkles (the wet kind, not the cupcake kind). One afternoon when I had planned a run, there seemed to be the promise of rain, and yet when I hit the trail, the drops let up, the sky opening up with the last bits of light before sunset. At least my feet got muddy and I rubbed up against a few wet cedar branches for good measure.

I’d committed to get outside no matter the conditions, and all I had to show for it was one single, only slightly wet trail run? #pnwblessed for some, but all of a sudden I was more aware of the weather than ever before. I was literally trying to go outside in rainy weather and I couldn’t find any. I found myself starting to crave the rain.

Rain in the forecast but craving a walk? Put on a waterproof jacket. Interested in camping but the forecast looks spotty? Pack some extra dry wool socks and go anyway.

To complain about not having rain feels like a sacrilegious act, particularly in a part of the world where sunny spring days are to be embraced and savored. But Seattle experienced its hottest March day this year, and it turned out to be the second driest March on record. Quite frankly, it felt strange. The natural rhythm of the seasons felt thrown off kilter, and so did I.

One week, work had been particularly difficult, with a lot of rejections. Everything felt like a slog. My mood was quickly spiraling downward, so I cut away from the computer early and headed for a nearby state park with my favorite trail. I knew I needed to be outside, the activity didn’t really matter. But my walk soon turned into a run, a faster pace a form of releasing aggression, and I found that what I truly wanted was that cleansing sensation that comes with plunging headfirst into the elements.

I needed to cry my frustration out and I needed the weather to abide, giving me that moment where it’s hard to tell where the tears end and the raindrops start, washing every emotion out of me. Instead, it was abnormally sunny. I had overdressed with too many wool layers, and instead of a cleansing run I was overheating, feeling pangs of guilt for my dark mood on a sunny spring day.

Perhaps my desire for rain is in my roots. Maybe when you grow up in a rainy climate, you need rain as much as the plants around you do. You need the dark, gloomy days, because they’re what make you appreciate the lighter, drier, and warmer ones. The rainy season cleanses, gets you ready for the brighter days ahead.

I know the rain will return, and when it does, I’ll stay committed to this policy to get outside no matter what. Even if it’s just to feel the rain on my face.

I looked at the forecast today. Nothing but rain clouds for the next seven days according to my phone. My rain jacket is hanging by the door, waiting.


Originally published on Outdoor Research.

Anna Brones is a writer, artist, and producer. She is the author of several books including “Fika the Art of the Swedish Coffee Break”, “Best Served Wild: Real Food for Real Adventures”, “Paris Coffee Revolution” and “Live Lagom: Balanced Living the Swedish Way”. She is the founder and publisher of “Comestible”, a zine about food and she also works as a papercut artist, handcutting illustrations from single pieces of paper. She is the Impact Producer of “Afghan Cycles”, a film about women cyclists in Afghanistan. When she is not writing or making art she is probably on her bicycle or making coffee outside. You can find her at annabrones.com.

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