Irresistible Rain

I woke this morning to some legs that felt like they had run eight miles at a 8:23 average pace the day before.  They were comfortably uncomfortable, if you know what I mean.  So my fuzzy plan for the day was to take it easy and look for that magic moment when the day when beckon me into my shoes and out the door.  

The boys didn't have school today and so I asked them if there was something that they wanted to do together during the morning.  They surprised me by wanting to ride the WES commuter train--which harkens back to a few years ago when they were both train nuts.  I wasn't surprised that Brandon suggested it but was shocked that the 16 year old would eagerly get his carcass out of bed early on a morning he could have spent unconscious.  We stopped at Starbucks for drinks and then got on the train in Wilsonville for the roundtrip that took a little over an hour.  

When lunch was over a light rain started falling and by the time I had puttered around in the garage putting away tools and sweeping the floor, the rain was no longer light.  From the protection of the open garage door I stood at the edge of the wetness and watched miniature waves of water roll down the street out front.  I listened to a bird preach the most beautiful sermon from the pine tree that stands over our driveway, and wondered what type of bird it was.  I tried to predict whether each chorus of it's song would have four notes or five or six.  

With the boys baseball games and practices postponed for the day I set about mapping out the remainder of the afternoon.  The rain continued to gather, wet and warm, and windless, it came straight down.  The little bird had left and now the only sound was that of the torrent.  I couldn't take it anymore.  I had to put on my running clothes and go get in it. 

I told the boys I wouldn't be gone long, this was going to be about running in the rain, no measurements needed. I grabbed Hannah, a spare towel and drove to the middle school.  The place was deserted except for a dad and a few girls kicking a soccer ball around on the side grass, he hatless and seeming to not notice the weather.  

I started to run right away, staying to the outside of the track where the puddles were smaller, Hannah's folded leash in one hand and my diaper in the other. I wore shorts but had put on a long sleeved poly shirt, my lime green bike jacket, cap and gloves.  My legs rarely get cold but my hands usually do.  

Hannah stayed by my side for the entire first lap but then lagged behind and started cutting the corners, being with me on the straights, her typical off leash pattern.  She's gotten slower and her tongue droops out the side of her snout earlier than it did when she was a pup, but her enthusiasm remains the same.  Avoiding puddles isn't on her worry list, hence the extra towel.  Let her get muddy legs and a wet underbelly.  It's not on my worry list either.  

If I did have a bother, it's the nursing home that overlooks the far end of the track.  I fret that a resident there, to me stuck in their small room,  will see me outside moving free and lament their own situation, hindered by age and circumstances.  I would feel bad if that's what they thought.  But little I can do.  

In a few minutes I was warmed up and impervious to the rain.  As long as I kept moving I would be warm.  All I needed to do now was coast through the gray and the green and the water and the space -- and rejoice.   This was something I asked for, a thing that wanted to be done, a place I had to go, a feeling I wanted to embody.  Let it rain and let me soak it up.  Moving as intended.  Exposed and vulnerable, as is natural. Breathing and pumping the way I was supposed to.  Getting closer to the truth but knowing that the answer will never be fully seen.  Another beautiful day to be alive.

The magic had culminated as the daylight continued to fade and I savored what was left by walking the last lap with Hannah, slowly and sometimes pausing to make it last.  The rain continued and now with a hint of a breeze, for the first time it did feel a bit cool.  At the end of the track I wiped down Hannah with the towel and then we loaded up and went back home.  It rained hard for the rest of the night.