We interrupt your regularly scheduled postings for a runbrag. Tune out if you don’t care about running.

I hate running in the rain. I hate water, that’s why. Being wet is the pits, and running with wet toes (squelching, sopping, dripping) and with water dripping off your eyelashes and running down your nose so when you breathe in hard you inhale little drops of water, and with water trickling tickling down your fingers…ugh. The worst.

So when I woke up this morning and heard the rain dribbling suggestively down the gutter outside our window, I groaned inwardly. Don’t get me wrong – I love rain, just as long as I’m not in it. Having to go out there was nasty.

But I did anyway.


At 2km my monkey mind was screaming at the rest of me, “Abort mission! Abort! Turn around and call it good at 5km!” but the rest of me was too dozy to take any notice. We all (that is, all the separate entities that make up Me) continued on, and suddenly there was the 5km beep from my watch, signaling the allowable 200m walking break. 160m into that, I’d recovered and lurched into a run again, resisting the temptation to duck off the cycle path and cut the run short. Finally my exit came up and I turned for home. Unfortunately that meant turning into the weather, rain and headwind both. That put the brakes on. But I kept it up and racked up 10km at an average pace of 5:44, which is a fair bit quicker than my mental benchmark of 6min/k over that distance.

I think I’m improving.