A regular Tuesday evening – Autumn/Winter/Spring/Summer
4 pm : I’m on my way home from work. There are a few gray clouds hovering about, no sign of rain, unfortunately.
5.30 pm: A slight drizzle. My hopes rise.
6.20 pm : Mr R returns from work. I suggest ‘Lets go for a walk instead of my run’. He sees through my offer. Declines.
6.30 pm: Surreptiously check the bbc website for the weather for our postcode. A shower is predicted for 7 pm. Yea!
7.00 pm: Clear skies. Biting winds. No sign of that rain. Mr R drops me off at the YMCA and ten minutes later, ten women are off on the road, grumbling about the increasing daylight which makes us more visible.
7.30 pm: We’ve already covered 2 1/2 miles with ease. It’s taking a different route that has made the difference, I think. It is exhilarating running past new houses, new streets, peering into lamp lit windows when an occupant decides to check out the source of the pounding of feet past their house. Sometimes, we get a wave and a ‘Hello!’. We ‘hello’ back and continue on, uphill and downhill.
7.50 pm : The promised rain comes. We are soaked to the skin, but it feels lovely running with stinging water beating down on you. Refreshing.
8.05 pm: Back at the YMCA, we stretch to cool down. Delighted with our pace today , we can still feel a tingling in our feet – we could have run some more.
8.10 pm: Mr R is waiting to take me home. I’m grateful for his support and his gentle way of getting me to the YMCA on days when I don’t want to. Because he knows that every Tuesday by the time my run is over, I am SO glad I came along and didn’t stay at home. It’s something that has never failed to amaze me – how I feel during and after the run. Before – well, that’s another story.
Next Tuesday (and every one after that) : Mr R to remind me of this post.
The Frangipani Journals 