My passion for running is multiplied when Mother Nature is at her worst.
I can hear the raindrops tapping at my windowpane,
begging me to come outside and play.
The rain, it knows me.
I want to go outside and play.
While tying my laces, my mother walks in the door of my room.
She knows by the smile on my face
that tonight,
I will make the street mine.
She says,
“Ahi Edgacito, you’re crazy for running in the rain,
but if you ran the other night when it was 15 degrees,
guess a little rain won’t hurt you.”
As I step outside, I take a deep breath and
visible thick steam blows out my mouth.
The rain mixed with the cold chilly air
makes the hair in my nose shiver.
It’s just a tiny drizzle right now,
I hope it gets worse.
{breath}
With my iPod crying out the lyrics of Lavoe
“Pronto llegará el día de mi suerte.”
(“Soon my lucky day will come.”)
I begin my 6-mile journey through the Bronx,
And
the 100-mile trip through my thoughts.
It was a rough day,
and the rain will help center my thoughts
on this unbalanced beam called life.
{breath}
While my feet take turns punishing the street,
my hands and arms propel me to my future.
Thoughts of
School,
Love,
Pain,
Work,
Money (or lack of)
Lost love,
and more pain,
are all taking turns owning my head.
{breath}
I imagine what the passersby think,
protected from the elements in their cars.
Will my determination inspire them?
Or do they think I’m crazy?
Screw ’em. I gotta finish.
When I get to the midway of the midway point,
I turn off my iPod so that I can continue my conversation with the rain,
One on One.
{breath}
As the raindrops hit the concrete,
It sounds like a crowd is applauding me,
encouraging me to go faster.
As my worn out Nike’s continue wearing out the pavement,
I feel something cold dripping down my back.
Into my underwear.
Not sure if its sweat or rain,
But it feels good.
{breath}
At that moment,
I wished it would rain just a little harder,
and like I put a quarter in mother nature’s jukebox,
the songs of
“Drip…….Drip……Drip,”
instantly changes into
“DRIPsDRIPsDRIPsDRIPsDRIPsDRIPsDRIPsDRIPs”
{breath}
Interrupting one another,
the raindrops all say hi to me.
My smile says wazup!
And I begin to run a little harder.
As the heavy raindrops beat down my skin,
they massage my soul.
However, a wind gust interrupts our session.
It wants me to quit and turn around.
But it’s only making me work harder,
and every obstacle I beat in this weather
is another critic that I silence.
{breath}
Getting to the end of the street,
I stop.
Tired and drenched
but victorious,
I watch my breath get pummeled by the raindrops.
Echoing in my head
are Coach Langley’s old instructions,
“In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
“Hands-on your hips! Stand straight up!”
So I
{BREEEEEAAAAATH!}
Taking in the glorious moment,
I turn around
because
I’m only halfway done.
The raindrops start yelling at me,
“DRIP!DRIP!!DRIP!!!DRIP!!!!”
“You gotta go back!”
“We have to finish.”
The backstory to this post
After a few bad breakups in the early 2000s, I got addicted to running and lost over 50 pounds.
Depression is no joke. I ran because I couldn’t afford therapy which I desperately needed.
As you can see by the reading and this thirst trap I posted way back when. 🙂
