Sat comfortably in a deep chair, immersed in a book on creativity and with the remnants of Hurricane Bertha en route across the country, it was easy to forget the idea of running today. Kim was of a like mind which meant that the magic carpet was available to use but, after my outside runs over the last couple of months, that didn’t really appeal.
Mark had suggested a run with him and Mach 2 up on the Downs, but Bertha had caused him to choose a more local route, which is what I ultimately decided to do. I know where the mile markers are on my pavement run and I thought I could easily do an out & back run of 6 miles without getting my feet muddy.
I set out into the rain, turned left to follow the pavement and then turned around and ran the other way… in large part due to the prospect of running along a pavement having water blown directly into my face. Maybe the muddy route, protected by trees, was a better bet!
Inspired by the reverse route I did the other week, I took paths that were not deep with stingers and headed around my short circuit in the other direction to normal.
The going was firm but the surface was muddy and strewn with puddles… certain that my runners were going to be wet through in any case, I didn’t even bother to try to avoid them.
How was I feeling? Spectacular!
As the rain came down and I splashed noisily through puddles, I gurgled and laughed, really pleased with my choice of route!
Twenty-five minutes into the run, when I was about as far from home as I was going to be, there was a torrent of super-heavy rain, like a swollen waterfall from the tall trees above me, followed by a vivid flash of lightning.
I habitually count to see how far away lightning is… one thousand and one, one th-BOOM! The earth shook, though it was probably my legs turning to jelly at the though of running through a wood with a thunderstorm sparking liberally at my heels!
Fortunately, though the torrent of rain continued to drench me to the bone through my ageing but much loved Gore jacket (probably as much sweat as anything, as it wasn’t really cold enough for a jacket!), the lightning abated and the next few booms were considerably further off.
I touched the edge of Wivelsfield and continue the circuit, the rain ebbing and flowing like waves on the beach and the ground below my feet more puddle than path.
Back onto the pavement and within easy reach of the house I picked up my (wet) skirts and sprinted for a hundred metres, before slowing to catch my breath before I reached the end.
5.75 miles in 55 minutes is an average of 6.25 mph… not bad considering that I didn’t really feel like running.
Kim meanwhile had made good use of the running machine in my absence, notching up 5 miles herself. She had paused only to close the sliding door when the super-heavy rain had flooded the floor and instead had opened the kitchen windows a couple of inches for air… if it was too warm for a jacket, it was certainly too warm to be running inside on the machine! I’m not saying that the rain was particularly heavy or anyfink, but by the time I arrived home the kitchen windowsill and floor was also flooded with water…!