Thank God It's 50 Degrees

Went for a rain today, in relatively balmy, drizzly weather, with the intent of looping around the superdeveloped Centennial Lake Park. Hardly a jaunt through the woods, but if my run is to be sub three miles, and my home base is work, I don't have too many options for trails and/or nature during my noontime excursions.

The "lake" itself is a man made, shallow (believe me, I have firsthand experience) body of water surrounded by condos & high-end strip mall stores & eateries, as well as recreational vendors who, during warmer months, sell tickets for mini-golf & paddleboat rides. Think a mini Coney Island devoid of culture. But, again, route beggars can't be choosers.

Around this "lake," also, are a series of perpendicular trails; some paved, some crushed stone, some wooden boardwalk. Between the various steps that lead from one level to another and little decks and other protusions into the water, the whole thing becomes a bit complicated. Well, anyway, I've tried my best in recent years to abide by a "go softly on my knees" running policy, which will have me favoring asphalt over concrete, and unimproved trail (e.g. woodchips, dirt, crushed stone, etc.) over asphalt, whenever possible. Indeed, I've been known to make long detours in order to avoid unfavorable surfaces. So, in this ever-changing caucaphony or intersecting, diverging, and concurrent pathways, I found myself zigging, zagging, and switching an almost dizzying amount as I flew along.

Coming around one bend, having been limited to a wooden boardwalk for a stretch, I saw a lovely leaf-covered path suddenly swinging right alongside my trail, only about three feet below. With anticipation of a cushiony, leafy reception, my next stride took me gracefully over the edge of my path downward to the leafy path which turned out to not be the leafy path at all but the lake.

Lucky for me, I had forgotten my running socks for the day (giving you another piece of evidence as to what kind of day it has been here), so I did not have to contend with nasty, uncomfortable socks as part of my entire drenched get-up on the way. I was also glad I did not encounter another mentally disabled mobility bus on the way back, like the one that pulled to the side of the road and opened its doors for me the last time I was out running, wet & dedraggled, over a rainy lunch hour.

Anway: the water was not too cold, not too many people were watching, and I was at least not dripping a whole lot by the time I got back to work. After my initial indignation, which lasted about ten seconds, it definitely seemed funnier to me by the moment.