Running in the rain

I love running in the rain but I don't like going out running when it's raining.

That's not quite as paradoxical as might appear upon first reading. When it's *already* raining, it's not always easy to motivate yourself to go out running. There you are, inside, dry and warm, possibly wearing some jeans and a comfy top, and the prospect of putting on your shorts and a vest to go out into the rain is particularly unappealing, like stepping into a cold shower*.

But if you're already out, say with a mile under your belt so that your central heating has kicked in, then running in the rain is fantastic. You don't feel the cold and it's almost cinematic or, perhaps, heroic. Certainly, it keeps you cool, so you can run faster.

And that's precisely what happened to me, today. Somewhere around Casterton, it began to pour and I felt like throwing my arms wide and my head back to embrace it. Perhaps, if there had been a film unit nearby, I would have done. I'm sure, as I ran back down the Sedbergh road, some passing motorists thought "poor sod' (or maybe "idiot") but I felt WONDERFUL.

*My friend, Keith, starts every day with a properly cold shower, the hot tap untouched. If I had to do that, I would never get out of bed.