Maybe it's that I studied lit too long but I seem to see my life as some kind of grand novel. And today's technique was foreshadowing. Since Saturday we've been talking about running with our friend Hernan. For some reason Arnold and Hernan have had many, many conversations about running on Tuesday night. Neither of these conversations seem to involve any exchange of actual information or commitment. And Hernan kept bringing up.... "But what if it rains?" On Sat it was crazy sunny, Sunday too and I started to think Hernan was wussy, so naturally I started to tease him. Yesterday he texted Arnold and said "Y que pasa si hay lluvia?" Arnold and I laughed it up, but then he turned to me and said "That phrase is like the end of a short story." Why can't I ever see the foreshadowing?

Today it started raining. A lot. That's how I ended up running through the Petsmart parking lot in a thunderstorm and needing to change my shirt at work. By the time I got home though it was clear and calm. Like any normal person I ate half a loaf of bread and decided it was best to skip running. Arnold reasonably pointed out that Hernan hadn't called and might not be coming. I conceded that this was excellent excuse number two not to run.

Then Hernan showed up, apparently not concerned about rain after all our teasing. I might have mentioned that I'd e-mailed his wife Sade early in the day to tell her how fussy he was being abou the rain. And then because I have no sense and only want to tempt my destiny when we arrived at the track I said "See it's barely raining".

The absolute second we got to the track it started PISSING rain. The term pissing rain was invented for moments like this afternoon. Freezing hard, dense rain. The kind that falls during the last scene of a romantic comedy when the couple realizes they love each other and run towards each other in the moonlight.

It was really the perfect weather for running speed intervals.

After one lap I was totally soaking wet and truthfully at first I kind of enjoyed it. It was kind of like playing in puddles as a kid. Hernan was elated "This is just like Chariots of fire" he said as he easily jogged around the track.

10 minutes later I wanted to die. 20 minutes later I wondered what was wrong with me. 30 minutes later we were done. 31 minutes later it stopped raining completely. 35 minutes later I was stripping in my car cause flashing people was preferable to the cold.

"Y que pasa si hay lluvia"... well today we found out. You get really wet and cold. At some point you can't feel most of your body, which is somewhat of an advantage.

While I was writing this note Hernan sent a text "We kicked Chariots of Fire's ass!"

Indeed we did. Indeed we did.

Posted on April 7, 2009 and filed under Livin la Vida Loca.