No, no, not the rat track!

It's been raining nonstop for the last three days in Boone, and this weather pattern is supposed to continue into the weekend. The downside is that my energy level plummets on rainy days; all I want to do is consume copious amounts of grain and sleep and/or read fiction (Think about it, how many animals do you see outside in the rain? None. They hibernate or something). The upside is that I need to get a lot of work done this weekend, so I will have a lighter load next weekend when two of my dearest loves visit, and as long as it is yucky outside, I will not be especially tempted to play outside in these mountains that are fast becoming my home.

The rain started on Tuesday, and I was forced to run three miles on the treadmill on Wednesday instead of outside [Can I get a resounding "Ugggggggggh..."?]. Today I was due for a five miler, and as I would much rather run this distance in a torrential downpour than on one of those little rat tracks in the florescence of the gym, I headed up to Cone Memorial Park, which is just off the Parkway near Blowing Rock. It was still super-foggy when I got there, but miracle of miracles, it had stopped raining! Off I went around Bass Lake with my rain-gear and iPod, following the carriage trail toward the cute little apple barn just over the ridge.

At one point I heard some loud rustling in the foliage alongside the trail, and immediately began clapping my hands and shouting, just in case it turned out to be a bear. You never know.

I think I'm supposed to be learning something about faithfulness these days, but I don't know exactly what. There's just something about driving up the road in the middle of a weeklong rain and finding precipitation-free hour just when you need it that makes me think that it couldn't have been coincidence. I guess what I'm trying to say is... Thanks, Jesus.