Day 12: There is sunshine in my soul today

Day 12 miles to/from work: 14.9
Total miles for S4S: 316.7

It was a dog-centric weekend. Saturday Scott and I went to Christy's Landing, a quarter-mile from our house, to have lunch and support the German Shepherd Rescue Alliance of Wisconsin. There were some gorgeous dogs there, along with their generous-hearted foster families. Christy's walleye sandwiches, 'rings, and beer were mighty fine as well.

Yesterday Jazz and I (as Fairy Dog and Fairy Dogmother) participated in the 28th annual Dog Jog, a 2-mile fun run and fundraiser supporting area shelters and sponsored by the UW School of Veterinary Medicine. Cold, rainy weather did not bode well for a good turn-out, but Wisconsin breeds an intrepid spirit. There must have been 100 dogs and even more people there. Besides being signed up for the run, Jazz and I were there as DCHS volunteers. I handed out flyers while she posed for pictures, exchanged butt sniffs, and generated goodwill. I am happy to report that the dog in the purple veil leading the old broad wearing the satin purple dress, wig, tiara, purple satin gloves, and orange running shoes actually passed some of the other participants.

Perhaps the most gratifying part of the weekend took place yesterday afternoon. As part of our DCHS volunteerism, every other Sunday Jazz and I visit a nursing home in Stoughton, a small town about 20 miles from Madison. Our visits warm my heart and crack it wide open all at the same time. The residents are people with broken parts. Dementia, missing limbs, morbid obesity, and bodies that are simply wearing out are all part of the scenery—and so are beautiful spirits. Jazz is not an affectionate dog, but she is gentle; and in that setting she is an angel. It leaves me humbled and in awe to watch someone who cannot articulate a sentence pet Jazz while smiling like a kid on Christmas morning. We talk about animal rescue, but really—who is rescuing whom?

Last night and this morning I had that first-day-of-school feeling—with the new session of my Gold's Gym masters swim class, MWF 5:45-7:00 am, beginning today.* Checking the 12-hour weather forecast; getting swim gear, bike gear, and work clothes ready; and using Google bike maps to figure out my route to work from the gym were all part of the process. That sense of the unknown was exciting and a little nerve-wracking, accompanied by the knowledge that my swim muscles are flabby from disuse. (Thank you, Beth McConnell, for this photo from last spring when I was more "in the swim". It's one of my favorites.)

The weather gurus had promised the rain would stop by 6 am this morning The weather gurus lied. Like some damp sherpa in the rainy dark, I lugged swim bags and bike panniers to my car Rexx. With Silver Beauty racked on Rexx's back, I pulled out of the driveway at 5:15 and made my way to Gold's. Since most of the class was a little out of shape (only a couple over-achievers had been swimming much recently), Coach Cindi was kind to us; and I managed a sluggish 2150 yards in the pool. It's a start. A slow, painful, pitiful start, but a start nonetheless

After showering and plastering on a bit of make-up, I donned my bike attire and went outside to an utterly dank day. After checking Silver Beauty's tires and my map, I headed out. In the rain. Ironically, I was so happy to be back on the bike,  I could understand why Jazz gets whiny when she's in the car and can't get her head out the window to feel the wind in her ears. Since it was an unfamiliar route, I had to make a lot of stops to consult the map; but I didn't get lost. With slow-going in new territory, the coolness of the day, and under 7-1/2 miles, I didn't even break a sweat. There's one for the record books!

A few hours after the rain was supposed to stop, it actually did. When I left work, it was as clear and crisp as it had been murky and damp on the way in. It was a bright, quick, and beautiful return ride to Gold's. Back in the day when I first started running (when I still thought that only superhumans could run a mile, but beginning to smash my own limitations), I would always end each run with a silent prayer. "Thank You for a day to run, a place to run, and that I can run." The exact wording may change from day to day and year to year, but the sentiment remains the same, "Thank You for this day, for the blessings therein, and for the sunshine in my soul no matter what the weather might be."
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*In my first letter/post—at the bottom in the fine print—I mentioned that on swim class days I would drive to the gym and bike to work from there. I said it was a 16-mile round-trip; but using a proper map and not being lost like the one other time I tried it, it's an efficient 14.9. I feel certain (hopeful) that no one is supporting this effort to see how much physical abuse I can withstand. However, I apologize if this creates any type of disappointment.