Soaked

Yep, it happened again.  This morning it was drizzing -- the kind of weather that would normally delay my walk, but after yesterday, I feel like I can handle anything.  This time I took Banks -- I just couldn't  bear to see his crestfallen face as I walked out the door yet again.

The first circle around Stacy Park(s) was pretty much a continuation of yesterday.  The sidewalks had settled down, the crushed gravel trails had absorbed the water, and the cold drizzle was no big deal.  As we completed the first go-round, though, here came the rain again, hard and fast.  Banks seemed confused as I started the second loop; he kept positioning himself right in front of me, shaking his body conspictuously, as if to say "Do you notice I'm wet?  Are you doing this on purpose?  Isn't home the other direction?"  Sorry, buddy, we both signed up for this, you're just going to have to trust me.  But about 2/3 of the way into Little Stacy, it became a virtual downpour, to the point where I sought shelter under a large tree.  And I relented; if it had been just me, I would have followed through like I did yesterday, but as the rain poured on him, Banks instinctively started running towards home.  I couldn't leave him in a situation that obviously unnerved him.

I actually ran a decent portion of today's walk, even when it was just sprinking, just to get it over with faster in case of .....well, of exactly what happened.  I'd pick a tree or a sign in the distance and commit to running that far.  I did it just often enough to remind myself that no, I really do not like running. 

My walking shoes were still wet from yesterday -- I had dumped all my clothes into the bathtub and resolved to deal with them later -- so I wore my lightweight slip-ons.  They don't offer much support (which I really thing is overrated), but have a good grip, so I figured they'd be just fine in the rain.  And they were, on the path and the concrete, but then we came to a wooden footbridge.  It barely even registered with me, and I kept up our hurried pace.  And then suddenly my feet were flying out from under me.  I shrieked "Whoa!" and fell flat on my butt.  No damage there, plenty of padding, but my hands are a little achy from bracing myself for the fall.  When he heard me yell, and noticed the leash clattering to the ground, Banks immediately dashed over to me to make sure I was all right.  God, I love that dog. 

As soon as we got home (with 15 minutes left on the clock -- I'll make it up tonight with a potty walk), I toweled Banks off, dried myself off and threw today's and yesterday's wet clothes, including both pairs of shoes, into the laundry. As ambivalent as he may have been about the walk, Banks is feeling frightfully good about himself right now, snorting and rolling around on the carpet like he does in the grass at St. Ed's. 

And I feel pretty good too.  As I said when I started this thing, I wanted to do something special.  Today was special, and so was yesterday. Actually, so is every day that I fulfill this commitment I made with myself, but some days are more memorable than others. 

If the meteorologists are to be believed, the rain clears out tomorrow afternoon.  As much as I have enjoyed my last two walks, enough is enough!  I'll hold out til the afternoon, and anticipate a drier (and less exciting) walk. 
This is my bedraggled self after yesterdays' walk.  I looked exactly the same after today's.