Day 17: It was a dark and stormy day

Day 17 miles to/from work: 29.5
Total miles for S4S: 436.8

It was early yesterday evening when Scott started taking on the persona of Malthus, Prophet of Weather Doom, suggesting immense amounts of rain and Every Reason Not to Bike to Work. I wore my "Uh-huh" Bland Look and continued packing my bike panniers and swim bag (knowing there was no way in hell I was going to get up early enough to go to swim, but it felt good to go through the motions). Did I mention that the panniers are waterproof?

I'm a sound sleeper, but even I could hear the beating the roof was taking from heavy rains throughout the night. When I got up at 6:30, rain continuing, Scott mumbled, "I'm sure I heard thunder." (There was none.) I replied, "Uh-huh," as I stumbled into the shower. A bit later as I was in the kitchen fixing coffee, Malthus implored me not to bike today, pulling his trump card and citing the possibility of hypothermia. (We're talking mid-50s temps, not Arctic ice floes.) Finally, I turned The Look on him. Yes, That Look. The one that packs several g-forces and sent my sweet husband to his office saying, "Okay, I won't say any more."

I must admit, despite The Look, I appreciate his loving concern. Until I met Scott, I was used to pretty much looking after my own survival; and it's amazing I made it this long. (Further proof that only the good die young.) And it really was the kind of day that I want someone to say, "Don't do that," because they care. That doesn't mean I'll listen, of course. My father's conditioning of "You hired out to be tough, didn'tcha?" so far predates that and has integrated at a cellular level, it gives "Be careful" little or no chance.

I set out with my waterproof panniers, old nylon rain pants, and new Novara rain jacket (guaranteed to be waterproof and breathable, giving me limited hope that it would be better than my other so-called waterproof/breathable rain jacket, which offers the experience of being inside a wet oven set to Broil). Oh... and swim goggles. Sunglasses are worse than useless in rain. Goggles seemed liked the perfect solution. They weren't. By the time Silver Beauty and I got about a mile down the road, my visibility would have been rated as "legally blind"; and I decided that full-tilt boogie rain in the face was a better choice. However, the new rain jacket waterproofed and breathed splendidly as advertised.
At times the wind created a sideways, driving rain; and at others, it was a gentle patter that was almost pleasant. It was all an adventure, and there wasn't a single moment that I wished I were anywhere else than pedaling in this "weather event". I also got great pleasure in thinking about Dave and Monte paying double for their DCHS pledge today. Heh-heh-heh. Oh wait, it's all for the animals. No personal gratification here. Really! Okay, there is a ton of personal gratification in so many ways; but I am also thrilled that every pedal stroke, every raindrop in my face, and every mile that passes translates to help for animals, people, and people and their animals. Thank you again for being part of this wonderful venture that means so much to so many.

When I got to work, drenched from the waist down because the rain pants suck, but dry where the new jacket protected me, and generally pleased with the whole experience, I called Scott to let him know I had safely evaded the ravages of the weather and wild-eyed motorists. (Pay no attention to the woman who blew the red light on Monroe Street and almost mowed me down.)

Going home involved a small detour to see Coach Petra at Speed Cycling and pick up some bike wear I'd ordered. I had planned to join her final "Monday Night Ladies' Ride" of the year, but decided I didn't want to brave the bike paths from Speed (different than my usual route) after dark. The homeward bound weather was ominous, windy, spitty, and cold—but still oddly enjoyable. It nevertheless felt wonderful to get home to a hot bath, and to let My Protector know that all is well.