Mark Haddon. (The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time)
Finally, we have a little weather. The drought is trouble enough that the people of Willits are literally doing rain dances. Many communities could run out of water in as little as 60 days. Ashamed of enjoying our June in January, now we welcome these Northern California showers, which actually don’t fall very hard at all but as light streaks steady and with purpose.
As if I needed an excuse to skip another weekend of marathon training (if you can call it that), which I’ve been successfully ignoring for yoga and concentrated spurts of healthy eating and who knows why else. I don’t let it worry me, because at the end of the day what’s all of this for? To be happier and feel better about myself and the world around me, and I don’t let the guilt of a wasted $100 registration fee act as some kind of inspiration. What’s productive about that?
But rain makes Golden Gate Park an enchanted fairy tale magic misty mysterious forest of fragrant trees and soft mossy earth. Not even shoddy wet-weather gear could dampen the buzz of a quiet Sunday run in the gentle San Francisco rain. In the morning the conditions called to me without a second thought to eating a banana and milky tea, slipping on that useless windbreaker, stepping into my shoes and floating out the door. Nothing about the negotiations I’ve been having with myself the past few weeks before every run. Just out and go and stop when it’s done.
It was my first 10-miler in ages, and an extremely encouraging one. Feeling strong and inspired to take on the most beautiful marathon course in the West. With a little bit of careful discipline and courage, I hope it lasts.