Running in the rain

I had been planning to ride my bike Sunday, but the day dawned dark and wet. If I can avoid it I prefer not to bike in the rain. Especially not in an all-day, soaking storm like this one turned out to be. Water pelting me in the face and kicking up my butt off the back tire on slippery roads: Na na na na. Even I, lover of all things meteorologically gloomy, do have my limits.

I ran Saturday: (almost) two glorious hours of slow running/walking on a crystal blue morning at Rocky Neck with Susan. We had not run together since our 100-Mile Adventure in Vermont back in July. We both felt so amazingly grateful and happy to be together again. Susan, bless her, was very willing to stay at my glacial pace and she insisted that I walk down every hill (it will be a while yet before I'm pounding down the hills). We laughed, we got lost, we talked out heads off. All so very good.

We ran mostly on trails, but there were a few unavoidable stretches of road to get through. I have always understood that running on trails is much easier on the old bones and joints than running on roads (no brainer right?), but I have never felt that so acutely as I did Saturday morning. Running on the roads made my ankle a little unhappy, but as soon as I stepped back on a trail all traces on symptoms disappeared. I must be right on that line in my healing: long trail runs, yes, long road runs, no.

Since my ankle felt fine Sunday morning, and as I said, it was raining, I left the children in the care of their father, popped Eddie into the car and headed over to our local trail system at Haley Farm and Bluff Point. Eddie (Coon hound of recent neglect) could not believe his good fortune. It has been literally months since I put on running shoes and snapped on his collar. He quivered and moaned with excitement for the entire ten minutes of the trip in the car.

Have I mentioned that I adore running in the rain? Especially at Haley/Bluff early on a Sunday morning. Eddie and I had the trails to ourselves. It was wonderfully dark green and gloomy. At some points the trail runs along the coast of Long Island Sound. Grey water with little whitecaps, grey sky. Lovely. The bride wore grey. I run here so often I tend to take its beauty for granted. But this morning, my first time back since July, I was all grateful appreciation.



I ran for about an hour and a half. I am so far out of running shape that 90 minutes was more than enough. The kids and I had two birthday parties to go to Sunday ('tis the season once again). One needs one's strength for these things. Happy birthday, little ones. Happy, happy, happy.