Oh, So Now You Stop

Wet tree


I woke up early to go out and run. Because a cold rain was coming down, I slipped into slug mode and decided to wait and go to the gym after breakfast to run on the dreadmill. A bit before 10:00, I sez, Self, Self, I sez, it's time to get a move-on. It was then I realized the light pouring through the kitchen sliders was bright and warm. The sun was out! In a flash of...uh...brilliance I realized I could run in the actual outdoors instead of under the fluorescents.

Fast forward to me, out on the street. (It would be TMI to describe getting dressed and loading myself with annoying electronic gadgets.) The air was sweet with a clean-washed smell as I inhaled. It seemed like a good idea to go six or seven miles while the going was good, so I headed out toward the canal path that runs just east of I-680. It's a little over two miles from home so I was warmed up and feeling strong by the time I got there. 

Wet me
Picture the sky suddenly darkening and the magical light becoming leaden. Imagine a huge bucket above my head and then see it go tip, splash, soak, right on me. I had my hooded jacket on but had taken it off when the sun was out. I struggled back into it but just was too warm to put up the hood. Sigh.

Funny thing--it did turn out to be an energetic and even lovely seven-miler. Because I am far, far from being made of sugar, I didn't melt. So I was happy when I turned into the driveway and headed up the hill for home. As I stretched a bit before going indoors, picture the light turning bright again and the bucket over my head, now empty, barely even dripping. Gee, thanks.

On my run, I'd seen only one other person out in the rain. A runner, of course. We mutually raised a hand in a runner's "hi" as we passed. As I remember it, we were both smiling.  

Wet, see?






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