Running with Ernesto

Ernesto has been a mild annoyance.  That’s luckily enough, to be sure, but he has been a minor pain in the ass.  First, the leak in my apartment when I got home from work yesterday.  I kept on hearing a drip, but assumed it was outside.  After all, it was raining, of course I was going to hear drops near my window, no?  After some kicking around, putting copious amounts of laundry to wash, and playing with my new toys, I went over to turn on my floor lamp, which is oft neglected since it is stuck in a corner, permanently (it was an evil floor lamp upon purchase).  Lo and behold, water, water, everywhere, so let’s all have a drink (forgive me, Samuel Taylor Coleridge; Homer Simpson’s memory of your poem is funnier).

I called maintenance, and the good people at my complex sent someone over right away.  The fix was in, but, the man told me, they’d have to bring someone in to check on the exterior of the building.  Given that I am on the eighth floor, I don’t want to know what will be involved there, but I thanked him for his help and prompt response.  I’ve always said the men and women who work my complex are hardworking, nice people, and that I want to get them all something for Christmas.  Now I will definitely do that, because without their help, Ernesto would’ve soaked my couch through and through.

Today’s run had to be done outside–with 14 miles to be done, a treadmill and the subsequent boredom was not an option.  I left the house at around 8:50am, and ended up encountering quite a bit of rain at around 10am.  I was soaked; debris that had fallen due to the wind and rain the night before clung to my clothes; the rain blurred my vision and made me wish for a hat.  I was quite cool at the time of the rain, though; the first hour of the run was a bit warm, so I actually appreciated the downpour.  Still, though; give me a cool, sunny day over this weather at any point.  Feel free, Mother Earth, feel free.

But no snow on race day, please?

There plenty of determined souls out there with me, struggling to finish what was most certainly their long runs.  In great absence were the bikers (wimps!).  I saw parents with their kids, walking with them in the rain (one cutie on a tricycle; another cutie sleeping in a stroller while rain puttered on the stroller’s rain shield; another cutie watching the rain from a carrier).  I saw people walking their dogs.  I saw a man doing something quite weird at Boulder Bridge, so I picked up the pace a little there, but I’m pretty sure it was some crazy-ass exercise that’re always appearing at Runner’s World.  Nary a biker, though.  The peds dominated this time around.

I finished my run in a decent time, as expected, but was chilled by the time I returned home.  I dove into the shower, a hot, warm shower, which isn’t supposed to be the smartest thing you could do after a long run.  I didn’t care.  Ernesto had robbed my body of its heat (which isn’t in overabundance, as anyone who knows me can tell you), so I would restore it with the help of the building’s hot water heater.

The next biggie is a 16-miler, hopefully to be done in nice, sunny yet cool weather (in D.C., in September?  Hmm, I don’t know . . .).