Some days I wake up and the first thing I think about (well, after wondering how early my little monkey is wanting to play lego with me) is when and where I am going to run. In my house, this is a major decision as I have so many things to consider:
(1) Nutrition: When did I last eat? Have I had enough to eat to run? Did I eat long ago enough that it’s not going to come back to haunt me?
(2) Time of day: Has the 3 year old had his nap yet? If not, is he likely to fall asleep and, if so, does this mean that he is going to be up with me at midnight? (This, by the way, negates all benefits of stress-relief during that run.)
(3) Nutrition – yes, again: When did the boys last eat? Does the oldest need a snack before he gets on his bike with me? If the youngest eats, will this induce sleep during the run? (hmm, I’m sensing a theme here.)
(4) Weather: Can the three of us cope with whatever Mother Nature might bring us?
Yesterday’s was an easy decision – at 5:00, after snack, before dinner and, if you-know-who falls asleep, he can sleep through until morning. But, out of nowhere, the winds changed direction and, by mid-afternoon, a major thunderstorm watch was in effect. How dare Mother Nature get in the way today?
In true running addict form, I constantly checked the radar from my homepage throughout the afternoon. I was not going to let my mother, Mother Nature or any other mother tell me what to do. The storm was north and east; we seemed to be escaping it – for now. And, then boldness set in. “Okay, boys, we’re going now and we’re going fast.”
The kids jumped. It was going to be an adventure. “Let’s beat the storm!” cried one. “We have to get home first,” cautioned the other. We were all keen but, as we walked down the driveway, the spitting began.
Nothing was going to stop me now. “If it rains, we get wet. If it pours, we get soaked – and we’ve done that before. If we hear thunder, we high-tail it home – and we’ve done that before too.”
We ran, and we ran fast. It continued to spit, the drops got bigger, and then they stopped. We still weren’t going to take any chances; we’d been caught in downpours more than once. So, even though we faced a long hill, followed by a gradual incline (you get the point, right?), we didn’t slow down. And, as our luck would have it, we were greeted at the top of the hill by a boom of thunder.
“Quick, 1K left, go straight home!” I yelled to my little cyclist.
“You’re old enough! Stay in eyesight! Go!”
And we weren’t far behind. We won this race. As soon as we literally got onto the driveway, the clouds exploded; we made it home.
Now that was satisfying.