Early last week, even before the expected consequences of our climb became reality, I’d decided to skip my normal 6:00 a.m. swimming this morning. So I slept a couple hours later than usual and woke to dark, gloomy skies and rain slapping against the windows. Not a big fan of rainy days when I have places to go and things to do, I was even more depressed knowing that today’s schedule meant walking to the train station for this afternoon’s lesson in Tokyo. On a good day, it’s a 15-minute hike down a steep hill, but factoring in my post-Fuji pace and the wind-whipped rain, I was figuring today’s trek could potentially be a full, miserable hour.
Someone was taking pity on me. When I checked my email before hauling myself off to the shower, I found a note canceling my morning lesson due to the typhoon. Typhoon? Really? Not just a rainy day? Didn’t seem that bad out, but I certainly was not going to argue. I could only hope that the folks in Tokyo would also rather be safe than sorry. After a few anxious hours of endlessly refreshing my email inbox, hope vanishing as I watched the rain outside the window diminish to a drizzle, I finally got word that the afternoon’s lesson was canceled. Hallelujah!! Thank you Mother Nature! Since two groups had now used the typhoon as an excuse, I only felt slightly guilty when I emailed my final student of the day and told her I was canceling the evening's lesson due to the weather. Ahh, a full day's reprieve before I have to hobble out into the world.
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