Wet and Runny

(with Fourplay playing in the background)


This was one of those days that I committed to that afternoon in the fall of 1999 when I was deciding if I was going to become a “runner” or not.
The decision then was to commit to do it no matter what the weather or “feelings” of the moment.

This morning it was raining.
The lightening was passing to the east, so I felt it would be safe to proceed with the planned trotting session.
Preparations were made and when I stepped outside to get into my car, I found that it was still raining lightly.
No problem.
I had brought my “rain resistant” top.
I was about halfway to my running course when the dark gray sky light up for a half second.
Not good.
The pyrotechnics were supposed to be over.
But I continued on my usual course in faith that “things” would be okay.

I parked my car and prepared to begin the jaunt.
A nice steady light rain was falling.
Suck up time.

I got out, locked the door and began running, dancing around the nearly continuous puddles.
It was 6:04 AM.
The temperature was about 65 so it did not feel too cold.
As I topped Hill One a gigantic lightening bolt snaked down to near the sub-station about a quarter mile from my location.
The jagged white trace stayed lighted for at least a full second then slowly disintegrated into hundreds of dots of light that held the same path as the original bolt.
Seriously cool.
And scary.

I panted out a prayer for protection.
I was running down the middle of a three lane road with no other structures for hundreds of feet.
I consciously willed my electrical resistance to increase.

Because I have been working overtime again this week, I choose to take the shorter path this morning.
Actually, I felt pretty good, considering, but the lingering lightening was another factor that helped me cut the party short.
Somewhere in the last mile, my right hip began to whimper.
Running Central duly noted the complaint while the Coach in me said the usual “Shut up and run”.
All systems complied.
I was thoroughly soaked by the time I reached the finish line/crack.
I resisted the urge to go straight to the car and walked past it to cool down a little.
THEN I got into the car.

On the way back home, I saw a car with a bumper that read as follows:

It takes a village
to elect an idiot.

Next to the words was a picture of Hillary Clinton.

I did a LOL.

Right on, brother.

At home (at the risk of TMI) I washed my running clothes and hung them up to dry, washed me, cooked breakfast (a cheese omelette), washed the dishes/pan dressed for work and drove to my place of employment for four more hours of overtime.