The Sky Above Us Shoots to Kill

Occasionally, Rachael and I have a bad idea.

I know, it’s shocking, but it does happen.

Last Friday, we decided that we were going to go for a run the next morning, because exercise is important, and we enjoy running, and it always falls by the wayside when our semesters get into full swing, and we’re always pressed for time.

Then there was a lightning storm that night.

After the recent unpleasantness of discovering our Xbox was disabled right when I really needed it to not be disabled, I woke up during the lightning storm and had the typical anxious thoughts of “What if lightning hits our house again and fries something else?”  These thoughts were countered with attempts at reason and appeals to statistical probability that lightning would not hit the same building twice in a six month period.  All that was countered with thoughts that statistics are useless when the unlikely happens and you find yourself with a bunch of fried electronics.  Ultimately, my laziness won out, and I just got up to use the bathroom before crawling back into bed and letting the storm pass.

Concerned readers will be happy to know that lightning didn’t strike our house again.

Fast forward to Saturday morning, and the two of us psyching ourselves up to keep our promise to go running.  We get dressed and pull on our shoes, and then we open the door to go outside.

It’s starting to rain.  Again.

Rachael and I exchange meaningful looks, and she suggests that we check the weather report before we commit to running out in more stormy weather.  It turns out that our local weather report thinks there will be scattered thunderstorms starting around 10 a.m.

At this point it’s about 9:15, and we’re wondering if we should chance it.  I suggest that maybe we could wait the storms out and go in the afternoon since the temperature outside is quite pleasant for a change, but double checking the weather confirms that it’s supposed to be stormy all day.

Here is where we have the bad idea.

“Let’s just do it.  Even if we only get one lap in then at least we can say we went for a run.”

So we go.

Now, because Murphy’s Law is totally a real thing and not just something we’ve made up to explain unfortunate coincidences that we notice, it starts raining in earnest about twenty seconds after we get to the park and start running.

The rational response at this point is clearly to cackle maniacally and keep going.

Of course, the rain only gets worse as we go along, and by the time we’re nearing the end of our second lap (yes, we made it two laps!), completely soaked through and realizing this was not a good idea, all I can do to keep going is replaying in my head the chorus of Mumford & Sons’s “Thistle & Weeds.”

Rain down on me, indeed.

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