Sunday, July 23, 2006
Careful What You Wish For
Fifteen mile run yesterday. I was decked out shirtless with my GPS watch, iPod, and CamelBak ready for a long, hot run under the 90+ degree cloudless sky. I make it to my turn-around point on a gravel road that runs along the top of a levy (I think) around a large park. As I turn around I see large dark clouds coming in from the north.
Wish #1: "Ah," I think, "I hope they come this way and block out the sun for a while."
Heading back to the east I keep looking back over my shoulder at the clouds getting ever closer to the sun which is still beating down on me. Finally, they obscure the sun. A cool wind starts to blow and temps drop a bit. I pick up the pace a bit to take advantage of this respite in case the clouds blow over and the sun returns. It doesn't feel like rain, but I put my iPod in the CamelBak just in case.
After a little while it starts to sprinkle. That the sprinkling consisted of big drops should have been a clue. As it was, I enjoyed the coolness and kept the miles rolling. Soon the sprinkling stopped.
Wish #2: "Don't stop yet," I say to the sky, "you just got started."
It starts sprinkling again. Good. The miles keep going by.
Round about mile 12 God decides he's given me my fair warning and proceeds to dump a lake on my head.
By now I'm pretty much the only person left on this paved trail that runs through a grassy area between houses and a bayou. I'm running with my face looking at my feet, through puddles up to my ankles, with nothing to do but keep going.
Shortly after the deluge started the lightning and thunder got going.
FLASH. CRACK!!!!!
No counting the thousands there. I was ducking and swerving for the treeline before I realized what I was doing. That one sounded like it was right over my head. A couple more close ones had me slogging through the grass at the treeline for a few minutes. I got back on the trail again and had a few more uncontrollable fits of ducking before the lighting started to move on.
At one point, around mile 13, I went under a bridge where a street ran over the trail. There were a couple of cyclists there waiting for the waterfall to stop. At this point I thought to myself, "I can't get any wetter," and just kept on going.
Things started to slack off as I approached mile 14, which is where I get off the trail to head home. As I approached the overpass I saw my sis-in-law sitting in her car waiting for me. She had been worried about me and offered me a ride home. While I greatly appreciated the offer, the rain had now stopped and I only had a mile to go so I just ran the rest of the way.
When I got back to the house I checked the rain gauge and found 2 INCHES of water there.
Wish #1: "Ah," I think, "I hope they come this way and block out the sun for a while."
Heading back to the east I keep looking back over my shoulder at the clouds getting ever closer to the sun which is still beating down on me. Finally, they obscure the sun. A cool wind starts to blow and temps drop a bit. I pick up the pace a bit to take advantage of this respite in case the clouds blow over and the sun returns. It doesn't feel like rain, but I put my iPod in the CamelBak just in case.
After a little while it starts to sprinkle. That the sprinkling consisted of big drops should have been a clue. As it was, I enjoyed the coolness and kept the miles rolling. Soon the sprinkling stopped.
Wish #2: "Don't stop yet," I say to the sky, "you just got started."
It starts sprinkling again. Good. The miles keep going by.
Round about mile 12 God decides he's given me my fair warning and proceeds to dump a lake on my head.
By now I'm pretty much the only person left on this paved trail that runs through a grassy area between houses and a bayou. I'm running with my face looking at my feet, through puddles up to my ankles, with nothing to do but keep going.
Shortly after the deluge started the lightning and thunder got going.
FLASH. CRACK!!!!!
No counting the thousands there. I was ducking and swerving for the treeline before I realized what I was doing. That one sounded like it was right over my head. A couple more close ones had me slogging through the grass at the treeline for a few minutes. I got back on the trail again and had a few more uncontrollable fits of ducking before the lighting started to move on.
At one point, around mile 13, I went under a bridge where a street ran over the trail. There were a couple of cyclists there waiting for the waterfall to stop. At this point I thought to myself, "I can't get any wetter," and just kept on going.
Things started to slack off as I approached mile 14, which is where I get off the trail to head home. As I approached the overpass I saw my sis-in-law sitting in her car waiting for me. She had been worried about me and offered me a ride home. While I greatly appreciated the offer, the rain had now stopped and I only had a mile to go so I just ran the rest of the way.
When I got back to the house I checked the rain gauge and found 2 INCHES of water there.
