Mitchell is such a sweet place to come home to.
I embarked on what I was hoping would be an 11 mile around the lake this morning around 10 am. Taking note of the rain clouds and drizzle, I grabbed a sweatshirt from the row of hooks hanging by my parents' back door and started my trek.
By mile 2, the drizzle turned into a downpour and I was quickly getting drenched. I considered going a half mile more to my grandparents' house, but I was tempted by the hills to my right and decided against the short cut. And then, as if the good lord commanded it, it seemed as if the skies spilt and thunder and lightening battled through (seemingly) torrential downpour. I was sopping wet, but considered the added weight of water drenched clothes an unplanned resistance workout.
My run had turned into a slow trot at best and so many passerbys shot me looks of concern as they passed me in the safety of their dry cars. When the lightening seemed frighteningly close, one passerby stopped and asked me if I wanted a ride. I declined, saying I was stopping "right around the corner" (my grandparents' house, now two miles away). Soon, two more people stopped and cheerfully asked me out of the rain. By the time the third good samaritan stopped, I was only 3/4ths of a mile away from my grandparents' house and certain I could trudge the rest of the way.
Even though I didn't accept the kind invitations of any of my communityites, the fact that they offered spurred me to finish my run. This community is so sweet, so many times it has taken me out of the rain, so many times it has loved me.
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