Today I came to two very important realizations. The first, after 4 straight days of rain… there is no way to avoid stepping on every worm. In my 29 years of life, I don’t think I have seen so many worms in one location. It seemed as though all of the worms that lived in Lacombe’s vital soil had congregated on the trial outside my house.
The second realization, and probably the most important … at 5:30 am this morning, about 2 km into a run with Matt, while the rain was dripping off my rain coat, I realized that my husband hates running!
For about the past year in the back of my mind, I knew that he wasn’t as passionate about it as I was, but I always thought that there was hope. This morning that bubble burst into about five pieces. The first, as he marched down the stairs to the front door with a scowl on his face, the second as he complained about his wet feet, the third the grumble about his coat no longer being water proof, the forth a loud huff as we changed directions and the wind blew the rain into our faces, and finally the fifth, the moment home was in sight he took off in a sprint so he could be done that much sooner!
Meanwhile, I am taking in every gift that Mother Nature has to offer. The sound of rain on my hood was a steady tempo to keep pace with. In the distance, I could hear this morning birds chirping a beautiful song. The cool breeze and rain was a nice change from the previous runs where I nearly overheated. And the worms, who could forget about the worms, and how trying to avoid them as best as possible made this morning’s run fly by.
Of course, when I brought this insight to Matt’s attention, like Milli Vanilli, he just blames it on the rain. So today, June 10th at 6:00 am, I vowed to myself never again to insist that Matt should run with me in the rain.
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