I have to admit that it's fair to describe me as a fair weather runner, although I truly think that it's because I live in Texas. When I say fair weather, I mean that I don't usually run if it is too cold or too rainy. It's easy to be a fair weather runner in my part of Texas, because the weather is pretty nice year-round, and cold and/or rainy days are relatively rare. Of course, what I've just said only applies if you like hot weather, as I do. If I lived somewhere colder, I'd probably be much hardier in terms of running in the cold.
It has been unseasonably rainy here for about a week now, and I can only take so much. I finally decided that it was time to run, rain be damned. Besides, it looked pretty good when I started my run.
The more that I don't run, the harder it is to get out there and do it, and it had been the better part of a week. I ended up running 8 miles. The amazing thing was that I didn't even want to run, but I told myself I would do 7 or 8, thinking for sure that it would be 7 given my initial lack of desire. When I reached the halfway point for 7 miles when I'd ordinarily turn back, I kept going, both surprising and delighting myself. Then, I started down the path for my 10 mile point, and I said to myself-I'm going to do it! Two things stopped me. One, it had started raining. Two, there was a couple at the start of the 10 mile turnoff who were engaging in a rather intimate kiss. I figured that I had two signs for turning back, so I humored fate. Soon, however, I began to wish I had turned back earlier because it started to thunder rather loudly, there was lightning, and it started raining harder. I started to wonder what my chances were of getting struck by lightning and how long it would be before someone found me lying in the street. I wondered if my decision to run that day would ultimately be my undoing-my swan song, as it were. Luckily, it didn't come to that.
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