this am it was dark and windy but not cold. the air had whiff of potential precipitation but it only had to hold for 30 min and i'd be home dry so i ventured out. 10 minutes later it began to rain. nothing horrible but enough to kill the buzz. i made executive decision to abort full run and head home at which point i'd retrive the dog and run the last 10 minutes with him. (his behaviorial issues prevent me currently from taking him on the whole run). i could feel my reflexive anger bubble up, almost taking it personally that the universe waited until i was the furthest point from home to start unloading. i feel utterly ridiculous typing that out but if i'm being honest that's how narrow my worldview can get at times. i was able to pull back from that spot though: it's a natural process. you can no more take weather personally than cancer (which has been on my mind of late due to a friend's diagnosis and cemented by the cover story in the sunday ny times yesterday). We struggle to not attach malevolence or intent to natural process. I recalled the gift of my recurrence-free life and how the me of 4 years ago would be thrilled to hear i'd be drawing breath at all 4 yrs hence, much less running around, having the luxury to complain about minor discomfort. and for awhile I actually smiled.
By the time I got home I was drenched and grateful. The rain hadn't let up but it hadn't gotten worse and so - since I was already soaked to the bone - I figured I'd grab the dog and go. we only had to do 10 minutes. We'd run 5 min out, 5 back. no sweat.
We made it 4 steps into the street and the heavens cracked open, unleashed sudden pummeling, pounding, king lear, monsoon storm, sideways sheets of epic rain. The kind of rain you seek immediate shelter from. I was the guy you see - from the safety of your dry car through wildly thumping windshield wipers - and think oh my god that guy's a lunatic. running with his dog in this? and why the fuck is he laughing?