Hello old friend

Stepping inside the large tunnel area that runs underneath the Bangor Track stadium, Jen and I start our waiting. The wind that ushered us here at a slightly quicker clip than usual also ushered another friend; greeting us alive and grey is a spring thunderstorm. We had been warming up for nine minutes, but knew within the first few that we wouldn’t make it the bout before the storm made us stop. The minutes sting by with questions as Jen and I sit backs against the High Jump mats. Twenty-five minutes of waiting, me cursing myself for not finishing what I had started the day before and Jen nervous she wasn’t going to get a run in at all. Twenty-five minutes of wishing we started sooner. And then it broke. Not suddenly, but a consistent temperament change to a reasonable sprinkle and strong gusty wind. As we start our workout my eyes wander to the horizon. I see in the distance the lightning still waves good bye and then moments later the thunder quietly remarks, “next time we may stay longer.”