Looks like Rain

Walking through pounds and pounds of mud and muck, and rain, and sludge I was glad that I had packed those trash bags with me. However, that’s not to say that I didn’t question its oddity, and my own, the entire time I trudged along mile for mile trying my best to block out the rain and dreariness. But that was easier said than done with everyone around me, dressed just as crazily as I, serving as a constant reminder to our present predicament.

To my right was a middle-aged man holding a big, black umbrella and orange draw-string addidas bag, he was wearing a black and orange rain coat, and shorts complete with clear trash bags over his sneakers. Others, like the man behind me, chose the more limited approach such as the simple poncho over regular marathon clothes. I on the other hand was the extreme…the exception to the rule…the one they would be talking about as they trudged on. This would be because I happened to be wearing every form of rain protection possible. Over my head I wore a bright yellow poncho, and a regular cut out black traditional trash bag over my waste reaching down past my knees. Over my sneakers, much like the man to my right, I wore clear trash bags to keep my shoes from getting ruined, either through mud, or rain, or any such annoyance. However, I will admit that it was quite the challenge to walk in, especially at a fast pace as I enjoyed.

Up ahead was a lady talking to one of her friends, and I wondered what they were talking about. Not paying attention, I tripped right over a hole in the ground and ripped one of the bags on my feet. I was so upset. This meant I would have to step outside of the hoard of people and re-apply another trash bag in place of my damaged one. Quickly, tactfully, I pulled the wet, muddy bag from my foot and opened the new one, slipped it flawlessly over my right sneaker and jumped back into step with the mass. Had I not stopped, I was sure that I would have been three markers from where I was now, so I decided to pick up the pace.

It was raining harder than ever now, and I could hardly hear myself think. Exhilarated yet annoyed, I listened to the constant patter of rain pelting the top of my poncho, until its sound become a monotone hum in the background…at least for now. I wondered how close we were to our next rest spot, but then looking down at my filthy, mud caked trash bags I thought “Who cares???” “Bring it on!!!”