In a new personal best ill-judged decision, I went ahead and ran this morning despite the drizzle that was falling when I first checked the conditions. By the time I had put on my trainers, hoodie, and (I thought, cleverly) a windbreaker shell, the drizzle had gotten heavier. By the time I was out on Caldecott Road, I wondered whether it might not make sense just to turn around and go home. It would have made sense. I didn’t.
So, I did run my short route, as though one and a half saturated miles were significantly more sensible than two saturated miles. My glasses were rapidly coated with water, the temperature was such that they were partly steamed over much of the time, I kept stepping into puddles. Bad, bad, bad decision.
But there we are. A mile and a half, cup of coffee, fruit, and in a few minutes I’ll shower and dress for Morning Prayer, after which I expect to take coffee with Margaret at R&R, and get some real, grown-up work done. Out of the rain.