When A Storm Comes In the Night

We knew it was going to rain. I mean, there was lightning and thunder and it began to sprinkle again. I'm not sure if it was the heavy food I ate or the curiosity of running beneath a storm, but I was convinced that I needed to run and I was going to take Sandy and Sophie, the two vanilla lab/chow mixed breeds, along with me. When I house and dog sit for Laura and Miriam, I take the dogs for a daily walk. We walk because it's usually hot and I have this idea that their thick coats are just shy of torturous under the West Texas sun.

This night, however, the air felt crisp and fresh, and the clouds were waiting to open. We were definitely going for a run. 'Course, it doesn't matter what time of day or what the dew point is because Sandy and Soph are ready to go as soon as they hear the soft chinks of their leash.

As soon as we left the backyard, more rain drops began to fall. The sky was full of noise and light. I was nervous that we'd find ourselves in a bad situation but the dogs kept on walking and wagging their tails, their snouts scouting for new scents. We crossed University St. and stepped onto the Texas Tech campus. Avoiding the puddles for the moment, we walked briskly and with purpose- out of the three of us, Sandy and I are the most out-of-shape.

The sky kept breaking and we kept walking.

Warm-up ended, and we began to run. Then, the expected happened. Curtains of rain began to fall on us as we turned right on Flint Ave. and headed north. At first, the rain surprised the dogs and caused a few missteps but they quickly resumed pace in front of me. I was soaked in less than a minute; they were soaked in about two.

I think it was when we reached the Mass Communications building that I realized how rejuvenating this run had become. My clothes were sticking to me, almost as if they weren't there at all, and I was running nude. It felt weird, but I began to focus on how cleansing the moment felt. The dogs were panting. Still, they kept at my side- I'm certain the rain helped hydrate them to some extent.

The puddles of the evening became small ponds of the night. My lips tasted salty from my sweat and my nose was filled with the smell of wet dog. Yet the rain constantly washed and rewashed away any sourness I could experience.

I thought about how in literature, rain can symbolize rebirth. For those forty five minutes or so under the storm, I let the rain wash away any tensions I had. They fell to the ground with each step like the water on my body, collected in pools, and I forgot them.

With fresh rain bathing my face and in rhythm with the run, I only focused on being.

more later,

Gabe