Telling Stories Brings Bad Karma

We drove to the end of the driveway, as has been our habit a couple times a week over the last few months. Delaney next to me, somewhat motivated to train. Deuce, in the back seat, much more excited that we’re off and running.

We park near the mailbox and get out. I see a couple of drops hit the windshield, but this is Colorado. It’s not likely to do more than sprinkle a bit and it will make things cooler for Delaney. He sees the dark clouds to the Southwest and decides to try and get this done quickly. He’s off at a quicker pace than he normally does.

Deuce is clinging to my side, bumping me as I try to get my Nike + sensor going. For a 70lb dog, he’s quite a baby when it comes to thunder. I joke about it as I move to catch Delaney. Delaney things it’s funny and tells Deuce he shouldn’t be afraid.

I tell Delaney, “There was a time I went biking and we got soaked.” It’s a story of my and a friend, planning on a 10 mile bike ride one day in Virginia. We start out and it begins raining, but not like it rained today. A good, East Coast thunderstorm and we’re soaked. By the time we get close to my friend’s house a couple miles away we’re completely soaked. Dripping wet, like we’d jumped in a pool, so we decide to keep going since we can’t get any wetter. It’s a good ride, and a fun memory.

Delaney and I make it about a third of a mile and we hit the first hill. It’s a good climb, and he slows. We’re still joking about Deuce being afraid as we go up.

Then it starts raining.

It’s been sprinkling a bit, but now it comes down hard and I think I feel a little hail. I ask Delaney if he wants to turn back and he says sure. I want a mile, so I say “start back, and I’ll turn around in a minute.”

At a spring I move out, Deuce still trying to run as close to me as he can. We go down a few more houses, and I check the sensor. It’s fairly accurate when I keep up a good pace, maybe a little slow at times, and it’s about .6 miles, so I spin around.

And see Delaney. He’s trying to keep going, so I slow and he joins me. As we go back, it starts to blow more, and the rain is really coming down. Now there’s definitely hail and it’s pelting us. Small pieces, but enough to get your attention.

“Frick! It’s beating my arms” is a fairly constant utterance from Delaney as we go back down the hill. I tell him to run a little behind me, getting into the lee of my body. It’s more annoying than anything to me, and I’m trying to press on. Just when I think it can’t get worse, or blow harder, it does.

We stop by the side of the road, near his old bus stop, and I shelter him with my body. I job in place and try to protect him, Deuce in between us. It’s coming down at a 45 degree angle and I have to cover my ears since they’re taking the worst of it. It must be quite a site, us out there in the rain and hail, me jogging.

After a few minutes it lightens up slightly, a little less wind, so we jog up the hill to the next driveway. We turn into the wind and it’s too much. I leave Delaney hiding behind a brick pillar and head back to the car. I can see about 5 ft in front of me as I squint with one eye at the gravel. If my glasses were clean I might be able to see 50ft, but with the rain, there’s no hope.

I get to the car, soaked, dripping water, and we drive back to get Delaney.

His cries of “this is horrible” during the run are replaced with some pride and “that was cool” comments as we drive home. He now has his own rain story.