He had no pity for my procrastination. In fact, I think he told me I had no excuse.
Silly me, though, to pick an afternoon on which torrential thunderstorms were forecast .... and ultimately delivered. Here was my prime seat, at the entrance to the Alewife T (and the head of the trail), to enjoy watching the 3.3 inches of rain that fell between 2:30 and 3:30 p.m.
(In any case, I spent my hour of downpour reading this most excellent profile of Roger Federer from a back issue of The New Yorker. Preferable to taking the Red Line back to Southie and doing laundry.)
As the rain slowed, I did get out for the 22 miles to the trail-end and back, wearing its puddles in style. Here's the proof.
A sunny day wouldn't have been nearly as fun.