Crazy Walk

That is the only way to describe today's five miles. 

It's been raining nonstop since I woke up this morning.  I love rain, so that's not a problem.  The problem is the storm -- a quiet kind of turmoil -- inside of me.  It's been going on for four or five days.  I can't identify it, or name it.  And so I can't fix it.

At about 2:00 pm, I obeyed a crazy instinct which told me to head out into the pouring rain and just walk.  I put on my canvas shoes because I knew they would get soaking wet, and I didn't care. Maybe two blocks in, and soaking wet, I rethought my wardrobe decision -- a long-sleeved white T-shirt over a dark-pink bra -- then thought, the hell with it.  I wondered if walking in a cool rain for an hour and a half might make me sick.  I think a part of me wanted to get sick.  A fever and a scratchy throat is something I can fix.  Another part of me was hoping that the rain would wash away my soul sickness.

I walked to Stacy Park. After a few days of hard rain, the creek is high and roaring. I walked alongside it.  I came to the wooden bridge, the site of my big tumble last winter, in the same kind of weather, in the same shoes.  I stepped across it carefully.  I walked the whole length of the park and back, walked another length, and realized I needed to pee.  I crossed the road to the other side, on the border of the woods, and hid behind a big orange sign that said "Road Work Ahead."  I climbed one of the steepest hills off of East Side, walked back down the slick road carefully, then walked halfway up the next hill, and took the long, gently sloping uphill road most of the way back home.

I ran into three runners and one walker.  Two of them greeted me warmly, the other two looked grim and averted their eyes.  I wondered what they might be working through.  I thought of all the times when, in the warmth and safety of my car, I looked at walkers and joggers slogging through a storm, rolled my eyes, and thought "Get over yourself, it won't kill you to take a day off."  I won't say that anymore.

I did a lot of thinking, and I came up with a lot of thoughts, but that's another blog for another day.  I came home, got out of my cold and wet clothes, took a hot shower, and fixed a cup of green tea.  The Cowboys are on TV, no doubt poised to break my heart.  Lynn will swing by and pick me up in an hour or so.  We celebrated our birthday last night, and tonight we're driving to San Marcos to continue the celebration with one of our friends from grade school, from Pittsburgh, who now lives in San Antonio and shares a September birthday. We will have dinner and a glass or two of wine, and I won't have to worry about finding a way to fit in a late-night walk.