Today I ran in the rain.
No, it wasn’t heaving, throwing-it-in-your-face rain; more like a light drizzle. Enough so that if you were out for longer than 5 minutes, you would be damp; 10 minutes, and you’d be pretty soaked.
I was outside walking/running for 40-45 minutes.
I sit here eagerly awaiting my warm shower that will bring my skin back to its normal colour, but I had to update this blog. (Ahem.) Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls…can I please announce that:
Christine Gordon Manley liked her run today!
I know. Shocker. All the odds were stacked against me: full belly from a great lunch out, a crapload of work in my to-do pile causing some right-now stress, and weather that just makes you want to stay inside, grab a cuppa, and huddle down.
But I was inspired to go running. I’ve been buying some pretty nice dresses lately and let’s just say I want to look good in them. So, I gave myself the much-needed kick and out I went.
I laughed as I stepped outside b/c it was drizzling and I wasn’t so sure how this would all go down. I’ve never run in the rain before. “Okay, Chris,” said I, “Let’s see how this is giong to work.”
I tucked my ipod into the inside of my shirt, and walked the 500 (ish)m to my starting point. Then I ran.
And I ran. And I ran. And, apparently, I ran for around 4.7K! I have yet to map it out, but I know where the 2.5K mark is and I know where the 2K mark is so it’s a pretty educated estimate. I did have to stop twice, for about 1 min each, to rest my knee which had started having a pretty loud conversation with me, but that’s okay.
The rain kept coming and I kept running and it was awesome. If you were driving or walking down the Ferry Road in Cornwall at around 330PM, you would have seen a pretty wild site. During walk/rest numero 2, the rain started hitting me at a certain angle and the wind was roaring through the trees, and it was all so surreal that I started to laugh. And not just a chuckle my friends; nope, I was out on the open road laughing my little bum off. I may have even been looking up at the sky, ala any romantic movie cliché you can think of. It wasn’t quite Gene Kelly but it was close.
I thought the whole thing was hilarious, and just at that moment, the beat of the music seemed to sync with my laughter, so I took off again. This is probably the closest I have come to experiencing that “runner’s high” I keep hearing of (I will experience this one day; I’m quite determined!).
I came home all pink-faced, not from the run itself, but from the cold and wet; my clothes were soaked; my hair, quite the site. My husband took one look at me, asked me how my run was, and I started to laugh all over again.