Its just as well I'm not superstitious. Today saw me at a 9am 'meet and greet' at the dentists; and when I say 'greet', it was not the smiley kind. lying in't chair with t'gob open, I could feel an unwelcome draught swirling around the empty corners of my mind. I though I heard someone mention something about a metallurgist? After thirty minutes of swooshing, bite together, open, bite together, and so say all of us, I made my escape for another 6 months. Cheap entertainment. Nice job with the amalgam though.
This afternoon, as feeling returned to my jaw, I peered out the window with tea in hand. I thought I might knock out a good, steady 10 or 12 miles. Certainly double figures. For sure.
'Looks nice outside. See how it goes' I told myself.
Things can only get better after my PW (personal worst as opposed to personal best) set at Saturday's Park Run. I've not yet had the inclination to strip off the tights in favour of shorts only so far this season, but after 6 or 8 miles in this humid weather, I reckoned I'd be plenty warm, so eased out of the house onto the pavement in shorts and skimpy t-shirt at a steady 8 mile/hour pace. I took my bumbag as I decided that I was going to listen to the radio on my mobile. Its also got a camera which might be useful to illustrate the sheer speed of this particular session, the honest tenacity of my sweat.
After 3 miles or so and just a mile into the woods along the river, I heard the rumble of thunder over Alison Moyet's Love Resurrection and spied a dirty looking, pregnant sky overhead through a gap in the trees.
I didn't spend two months in the scouts for nothing. Lightning and woods don't mix. I decided to make a U-turn before I got a) fried or b) soaked or even c) soaked then fried or d) gently marinated in a red wine and ginger sauce.
By the time I got out of the woods the black clouds were overhead and the rain had started. I wandered around the town jumping from archway to doorway to trying to furtively shoehorn myself under other peoples umbrellas, but failed miserably in my timing and after 5 miles skelped through the graveyard at St Marys to huddle under the stone arch. It was coming down in rods by then. My mobile was shorting in my bumbag, water running down from the earphone wires and little sparks firing out from behind the plastic casing (well not quite, but you can imagine). I was droukit. There was half an inch of water in the bumbag. The cars were throwing up huge waves of grey surf as they passed by. I could hear the Beach Boys.
Typical. It no sooner arrived, than it went, and the sun was up and a supercharged rainbow brightened the horizon. I would have taken a photo, but the mobile was making worrying gurgling noises.
I suppose I could have run on and probably would have dried in a mile or two, but the thought of a cuppa and a bit of shortie sounded a better option and it was hometime. The forecasts improving so might try a longer one tomorrow.... or might not!