I was up at 5:15 this morning to go for a run. I decided to get up earlier than usual to give 4 miles a shot, and was relieved to not hear the recently all too familiar sound of rain against the bedroom window.
Of course, by the time I had put on my running toga and laced up my sneakers, there was a mist falling, but that wasn’t going to stop me.
The streets of Brewer are very quiet at 6AM. I was alone with my thoughts and my music.
At the 1 mile mark, however, the rain decided to join the party. By the time I arrived at the 2 mile mark, it was coming down very hard. That was right about when U2’s “Beautiful Day” started on my MP3 player. I spent the length of the song dodging rain drops and puddles while cursing Bono under my breath. I posed mental questions like: “I bet every day is a beautiful one when you’re recording in a cushy studio in Ireland, huh?” and “Would you still be singing about the beauty of this day if you were out here running in the rain with the likes of me?”
Yes, my mind does odd things when it’s trapped on a run. Luckily, it’s not a particularly long song, and I moved on to other thoughts when the next track played.
I was still drenched, though. I had to keep wiping off my glasses because I couldn’t see two feet in front of me. Cars slowed down as they passed, and I got the sense the drivers really wanted to offer me a ride and convince me to come out of the storm.
However, I soldiered on and eventually made it back to The House on the Hill, nearly doubled over from the weight of all the sweat and rain water I was hauling. I was proud of myself for giving 4 miles an early morning shot, but thoroughly grumbly (one of my favorite made up words) from the effort.
I suppose that whenever you see more worms than fellow runners (2-0) along the route, it’s a sign that it might not be a great day to run.
Then again, according to Bono, it’s a Beautiful Day, Modern Philosophers. Get out there and do something healthy…