Last night I went for a lovely run. Three miles on an early spring evening in the Northamptonshire countryside. Birds tweeted, friendly locals shouted hello and I returned home looking forward to my long Sunday run.
Little did I know my long Sunday run would be accompanied by driving rain and gale force winds.
I set off hoping my Gore-Tex jacket would protect me against the elements. It helped, but without gloves, my hands were soon freezing - and I became a little perturbed when my left hand started to turn blue. Mindful that I need my hand to do my job, I stuck it inside my jacket to keep warm. This gave the impression I was an opportunist thief running off with some half-hidden bounty. Thankfully, all sensible people were at home, so my only witnesses were another couple of runners and they had their own cold wet fish to fry.
Despite the hideousness of the weather, the 12 miles went quickly and I was soon home, resembling - as my friend said - a human popsicle. By now, I'd lost all use of my extremities so she peeled off my kit and I ran to the shower. There, I discovered, I couldn't distinguish between hot and cold so erred on the side of caution by setting it to cool. It took me around two hours to warm up properly, and that was done with the help of a huge roast dinner. And a very tasty mushroom starter.
In the spirit of being prepared for all eventualities, I suppose I should be glad it poured with rain. And dropped to four degrees. And started to snow a bit. But I would be more than happy if from now on I could just be prepared for lovely sunshine and a light breeze.
(Saturday stats: 3 miles; 30.37 minutes; 10.12 minute/mile.)
(Sunday stats: 12.4 miles; 2.01.55; 9.47 minute/mile.)
(Pic: Oh, I see. The sun comes out after I've been for my run!)
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