Spring Outside Story and Reflection
On March 6, my husband said - let's run tomorrow night. Our local running store offers unofficial community runs each week. Normally, I'm the least spontaneous person I know - maybe it was his enthusiasm or the sun shining through my Alaskan window. I was like, "Let's do it!"
It was a fabulous run—and by that, I mean it was so good to be outside, off the treadmill, and embracing Spring. (It doesn't mean it was effortless. There may have been several walking efforts to allow my HR to recover 😂.)
I posted about our Spring run on my personal social media. When I looked through the lenses of friends and family living in the Lower 48 (I'm pretty sure it's Alaska State Law to use that term when referring to the contiguous states), I realized what they were seeing.
Um, March 7 is not Spring yet on the calendar. Also, their evidence of the new season included flowers and shorts, which contrasted with my photos highlighting IceBugs, snow carvings, melted puddles in the middle of icy roads, jackets, hats, and leafless trees. 🤷♀️
So why did I call it Spring? Because it felt like it! Over 11 hours of sun, sun into the early evening hours, my face doesn't hurt being outside, the roads are dry in places. I didn't need gloves (which, unfortunately, meant I was carrying them a couple of miles).
Just like the photo above of 3 exceptional physicians (all former residents I was privileged to work with during their training who continue to provide excellent care to patients in their communities) - our definitions of Spring are different than that of others. When they can ski in tanks and sunnies - it's downright Spring or heck, practically Summer!
I grew up in Florida. I had a foundational perspective shift. I would have told you 18 years ago that my photos represented the dead of winter in some strange far away land and that the photo above was clearly of some deranged individuals, or perhaps they were all suffering from hyperthyroidism? And yet, there I was a couple of weeks ago, running outdoors in 32-degree weather - and smiling (while also huffing 😉)!
Our brains are powerful tools.
Reflection: What is possible, when we begin to shift our lens - to look at the privilege of working with the patient in front of us? To get to invest in brilliant people becoming family physicians? To have educators who dedicate their time to often thankless work? To earn good wages? To have awesome colleagues? To know that if we don't know the answer, we have almost limitless resources to find it? To know this work matters and has meaning? To contribute to our communities?
To look less at the ice, snow & thermometer, and focus more on the sun, the length of day, and dry roads? To begin to find hope when it seems so bleak? What is possible for you?
Don't worry - I'm going to slow down my sun-fueled pace, so I don't have demand ischemia this week. Ha
I want to thank you all for what you do!
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