A 7 Mile Run In The Pouring Rain. Bless My Cotton Shirt.
I had an excellent lie-in this morning on what’s my penultimate week of unemployment. I’m enjoying the rest whilst I still can!
The weather today was the same as yesterday, heavy localised showers with some thunder. Reluctantly I ventured out around 3pm just as there was a break in the weather. Fortunately today’s run was to prove to be a good one.
Up until the last mile.
I’d planned on running further than normal and aiming for between 7 and 8 miles, but just as I was running up the North Road home the rain started heavily and I was out in nothing but my waterproof bottoms and a cotton top. I was saturated after a minute.
At the 10k point I decided to run for it in an attempt not to drown. It got hazardous at one point as my glasses and eyes were covered in rain. Somehow the fucking stuff was dripping right into my eye balls and I couldn’t see for shit. I felt like resorting to sonar and screaming ‘FUCKING TWAT!’ to see if it rebounded on anything in front of me, but I thought better of it.
It started getting more treacherous the further I went on. I kept stepping into puddles and nearly stumbling due to their depth. I finished the final mile in 8:23 and instead of feeling pleased with myself, I cursed the weather for being constantly shit.
My idiocy knows no bounds. If I had an iota of intelligence I would have known that the rain doesn’t discriminate, it falls on everyone equally.
Except those that have the sense to remain indoors.