I'm not a runner. Hello! I'm an anti-runner if I'm anything. I have never liked running, nor have I ever wanted to like running.
That said...
22 is gone for a spell. I'm the puppy-master. Puppy-masters get to do awful things like stick their hands in bright pink bags and pick up puppy by-products. When 22 is on walks with the girls and me, she does this, they are her dogs. But, since I'm such a nice mom, I will do this until she returns.
Day one of 22's trip -- all goes well. Rob and I take the puppies out for a brisk walk even though we'd gotten up early for a garage sale and then unloaded, sold, reloaded and hauled all the leftovers to the homeless mission. Even though we'd done all that, we took the pups for a walk. Nice, nice parents.
Day two of 22's trip. Rob was really tired. He hadn't really committed to being the puppy-master. So, me, being the woman who does wear big girl panties most days, decided I could do it alone. Three weeks of obedience training and all those walks with our fabulous Gentle Leaders...I could do it.
The weekend was a bit rainy. Did I mention that already?
The usual byways were surrounded by many places that could have been big mud puddles and to avoid the whole bath thing and/or other issues involving mud I decided to drive to a trail that is asphalt the entire way and butts-up to a concrete parking lot. We'd walk a mile or so. I could handle them for a mile all by myself. I told Rob, packed my phone, loaded the girls and took off. I needed to get the walk over and done with because we had more rain in the forecast.
Our walk was going swimmingly. Until we nearly reached our turn-around destination. I glanced up because what little sun there was had pretty much disappeared. Huh? Might be because it was now buried under a very dark cloud. A dark cloud with little rumbles and occasional flash of lightning.
First, as we turned around and began race-walking to the car which was parked about a half mile away, the rain drops were big, fat and steady. I could live with that. The faster I walked, the less hit me. Oh, they hurt when they hit my face, but I could deal with it. Then the sky opened and someone began throwing full pails of warm water on us. (At least they were warm.) So we ran, then when the puppy-master began to fear exploding lungs more than lightning strikes we slowed back down to a race walk. Then we rinsed and repeated.
We reached the car, drenched, soggy and grateful. Can you imagine how it smelled when two, very warm, wet dogs and I rode home? And, I have to confess something. When someone needed to take a break from running to take care of a personal doggy issue, I didn't take time to cart it out in a pink bag. Sorry.
