I’ll Be Patient (This Time)

Posted by Marie in Blog, Uncategorized | 4 comments

I come home after dropping the kids off at school and there she is, waiting for me in front of the kitchen door.

“You’re home!” I imagine her saying, “Let’s go! Let’s go! LET’S GO!”

“She” is my dog, Luna. And Luna is my training partner. My running buddy. My daily reminder that as soon as the house is quiet and my mind is clear, it’s time to lace up and hit the road.

She’s a Lab, a water dog, so running in wet weather does not bother her. Nor does it bother me. You run, you get wet, you come home feeling warm with runner’s high and drenched from raindrops, and then you take a nice hot shower. Luna? She splashes around in the endless curb-side streams that cover our hood then after she’s dried off, curls up on our bed for a snooze.

There’s another reason running in the rain doesn’t bother me: I’m terrified to throw my training off because of this thing called “Leg 12 and Leg 24 of The Relay.”

Yesterday was a downpour day. Three hard storms, back to back. I walked into the kitchen after dropping my littlest one off at preschool. There sat Luna, tail wagging and eyes shining: “Come on, lady, where ya’ been? It’s prime puddle time!”

Out loud I said “Seriously? You really want me to take you out in this weather? Because I’m not ready to run.  It’s messy out there. But okay. You want to do it? Let’s roll.”

Hat? Check. Jacket? Check. Long running pants? Check. Music? Check. Dog? Please. She was halfway out the door.

We hit the pavement and the seriousness of the storm hit me. It was far too cold, far too wet, for me to really run. I was drenched within minutes. My shoes were lakes.

The dog loved it.

I decided we’d just walk. A short 20-minute walk. About 10 minutes into it, I heard a loud noise through my ear pods. The flight path for San Francisco International airport is above our neighborhood and during bad weather, the planes fly just a little lower.

A few seconds later, another loud noise. I noticed the dog’s eyes were searching the sky, her tail still but in the air.

Thunder.

Which could only mean…lightening.

And here I was, drenched and walking in the middle of a tree-lined street with my iPhone attached to me.

I sprinted home (all of five long blocks). Within minutes of drying off the dog and myself, a full-blown thunder and lightening storm hit (storm two of three).

A bit later, the sun shined and the black clouds cleared the way for blue sky. If only for an hour. I wanted to go back out again get a “real” run in. But my running shoes were sopping wet.

It’s raining again today. The dog was waiting for me when I walked in the door. As I sat down at the laptop to write, she nudged my hands, wanting to know what’s different about this morning.

I know I can’t wait for picture-perfect weather to run. But the forecast calls for thunder and lightening. I won’t be caught in it. That little break in the pattern will come today. I’ll wait for the sun and blue sky to peek through.

I’ll be patient. And my shoes will be dry. At least at the beginning.