It rained, today–occasionally torrentially. I love sitting in my beautiful attic bedroom, listening to the rain on the slate roof, watching it drip down my skylight and fall (by turns both vertically and horizontally!) out my window. I love rainy days. I love the smell after the rain has ended, I love the heavy thudding of drops on the roof, the roar that consumes the house when it decides to get down to its rainy business.
I do not, however, love running in the rain. I always worry it will short circuit my MP3 player, and the mud kicked up will tarnish my tremendously beautiful new running shoes, which were very expensive and which I baby, wearing only for running. Further, the cold that often accompanies rain makes my lungs sad.
So it was not with pleasure that I noted, when the time came for me to pry myself away from my data visualizations to suit up for my run, that it was raining. It had stopped for a while, and I anticipated (as the BBC weather assured me) that the evening would be rain-free. No such luck.
I glared at the rain. I cursed at it. I flipped it off (how unladylike!), and yes, I even hissed at it. And I pulled on my gear anyway. I would not be intimidated out of my run, even if I did sully my beautiful shoes. (Why do people even make white running shoes? Why are all shoes not the color of dirt? Or, at the very least, Teflon coated?)
Just as I stepped out onto the stoop, the rain stopped.
I grinned, and I ran. Not as hard as I ran on Monday, because the muscle alongside the inside of my lower leg is angry with me and I felt it needed a bit of a rest. (Possible that this is a shin splint, in which case I am sad).
On the last leg of my run, as I was running back east, I looked up to see a beautiful rainbow stretching across the sky from the north. It stayed, luminescent and effervescent, until I finished my run, when it vaporized into the slate blue sky.
It was a perfect end to my run–and a good reward for showing up. I felt that the universe was smiling at me.