Those of you who don’t live in San Francisco, and haven’t visited in August, don’t know it but this is actually our winter season, not our summer. The fog rolls in at night, and we’re lucky to see any part of the sun the following day. Not only is August foggy, but with the fog comes the wind, and as the day goes on the wind gets worse. If this wasn’t enough, sometimes, the fog is so thick it feels like a London rain. If you don’t know what that means, think about someone above you spitting on you constantly, and that’s what it feels like.
Brent and I moved here six years go in this August, and both of us were incredibly disappointed by what we thought was summer. Once we made a choice to call August the winter, and September and October the summer, we felt better. But that “summer” six years ago felt like a kick in the teeth. We had just moved here and we felt jipped. Everyone else was swimming and we were breaking out the winter coats to go have soup at a restaurant down the street. However, now I cherish these months, even look forward to them (June and July aren’t much better). If you’ve never seen the San Francisco fog, it’s mesmerizing. It’s hard to describe, but it’s beautiful to see the air floating right in front of your face. Today, I looked out our window and the fog or the rain, or whatever was moving sideways in the wind. Great, I don’t think August is going to enjoy the fog as much as I usually do while we go on our regular morning run.
We procrastinated a little bit in the hopes that it would clear up, and by 9:30am, no such luck. We got dressed, put on some waterproof clothes, put the rain guard on the BOB, and headed out the door. August was already a little pissy. Maybe 9am is a better time slot for him, who knows. Anyhow, he whined most if not all of three miles. It started with whining about “needing an umbrella”, then it moved to “doggie needs a hat” (we brought his stuffed dog along for the ride), then at mile 1.5 it turned to “want to see the DeYoung museum” and that continued for the rest of our run. Typically, I tell him the museum is closed (usually it is), but today it was not. So on our way back home, we stopped at the DeYoung and got out to look around.
Anyhow, my point to all this? It was my fastest run yet. No surprise though, right? I mean here we are, August is whining the whole way, and I’m getting wet because like I mentioned it’s August. So in the end, I guess that’s the incentive I need to run faster – a little fog, a little run, and a little whining.