Wake up this morning with every intention to run. Then I hear the patter of rain outside my bedroom window. I do not want to run in the rain.
Truth is, I do not like to run. I don’t hate it like I used to. But I am so not there. That runner’s high people talk about? I’m thinking the closest I’ve ever come is one time when I got distracted by the music on my iPod during a jog and ran into a parked car and went flying HIGH into the air, but miraculously landed on my feet and kept running.
Okay, so the story above is slightly skewed, but there was a time when my husband biked into a street barrier, flew off his bike, and landed on his feet and actually continued down the street running. I swear! True story. Ask his friends in Miami. He was the campus SuperHero…for like a day.
So anyway, this morning, I am thinking of all the reasons I cannot possibly run in the rain. What if I fall? What if some speeding car whizzes by my and bumps me off the road in a wake-making blur? What if my pinky toenails fall off? Continue reading