I know I’ve been whining about the weather quite a bit lately. I’m sorry. It’s just that all of the drizzle and wetness is getting to me. This nonstop rain is quite possibly rotting my brain. I’m somewhat convinced being constantly damp has resulted in some form of exotic mold planting roots in the sulci of my frontal lobe and sending me into a minor depression. I hate this weather. I dream of the sun and it’s elusive warmth. I long for clear, blue skies. But, if I were pressed to find a silver lining in these charcoal grey cumulous clouds, I have to admit this has been great running weather.
There is something soothing and relaxing about running in the rain. It forces me to leave my iPod behind and listen to the cadence of my own breath. It demands awareness of my surroundings, lest I slip and fall. The feel of the raindrops on my face is refreshing and comforting, as if they are encouraging me to forge on, begging me not to stop. This is the only time I don’t mind the wetness. In fact, I relish it. Somehow, it makes me feel like more of a runner, like someone so dedicated to my craft that no amount of poor weather could deter me from my goal. I feel stronger, more alive. I see the river churn and the pedestrians dash for cover, but I am happy to continue on, rain be damned. So, while I pine for brighter days, at least I can take solace in these runs.
No comments:
Post a Comment