Must Be Summer in Seattle...

Rain. I love rain. Right now the windows in Casa GVB are wide open and it is POURING outside. I'd worry about the gutters and the roof and the leak in the shed, but this ain't my house anymore. Screw it.

Still, rain sucks when you are dreaming about a long bike ride on a Sunday morning. The plan was to take the GVB Family up to see the progress on the framing of the New Casa GVB, stay behind with the Fuji, and weave together a couple of my favorite rides for a 50 mile total back to this crumbling pile of rural living. Not gonna happen. It rained all night, and when I rolled out of bed at o-dark-thirty it was still raining. Hard.

So I spent the morning packing boxes (Shit I have a lot of books) and watching for the NOAA-promised "partly cloudy" weather that was supposed to fill my afternoon.

Rain. Slugs started populating the garage.

Mrs GVB: "Hey, Grouch-o. Go do something."
GVB: "It's totally raining."
Mrs GVB: "Perceptive. It's Seattle. It does this sometimes."
GVB: (looks sadly at the Fuji hanging in the garage above the boxes of books he's just packed): "50 miles in this rain? No thanks."
Mrs GVB: "Do something ELSE"
GVB: (looks at Mrs GVB)
Mrs GVB: "Not that."

So I did what I usually do during bad weather...I went to the climbing gym and hoped they hadn't canceled my membership in the 3 weeks I'd been away.

Oh, look, dozens of new climbs that can kick my ass. Fun. I worked some new boulder problems for an hour or so, took a nice fall from a lieback move, knocked the wind out of myself, and then drove gingerly home with my inhaler at the ready.

Still, felt good to pull plastic again. Will get back down there this week and finish off that lieback bullshit. Why do they let 15 year old boys with 6.5 foot wingspans set routes?

Home to find both kids sound asleep on the floors of their respective bedrooms...we bought you beds why? So I Nanoed up and went for a run in the rain. A very nice 7 mile out-and-back route across the Rez. I won't miss running here, though. Unleashed drunken dogs, speeding Ford pickups, and signs that say "Trespassers will be Totally Fucking Killed" don't inspire much but fear in me.

Here's the weirdness of today's run: 3.5 miles out: 24:46. 3.5 miles back 24:47. No lie. Think my pace was working? Sheesh.

Congrats to Al B for his 3:42 in the Buffalo Marathon. That's something like an 8:30 pace, yes? Kick ass.

Happy Whatever Federal Holiday This Is.