Splish splash running...

The rain poured. The wind blew and I ran. I ran over the bridge and along the tow path. I ran through the woods and I ran around the pond. Today, the otherwise peaceful pond was stirred up into a maelstrom of white water. Real waves curled into surf big enough to carry a duck into the reeds and bushes growing at the pond edges. Here geese and swans sheltered from the storm but for me there was no shelter. Even the trees dripped torrents of water on my head as I passed underneath their swaying branches. Leaves coloured golden yellow covered the path and hid the deeper puddles that I and my companion suddenly plunged into. Not many people out today I thought as rivulets of cold water trickled down my already soaked body. At the stream crossing we took stock of our situation. 54 minutes passed and over another 60 minutes to go before our saturated selves hit the 120 minutes we were aiming for. In an instant, thoughts of heading to a nice dry place entered our thinking but even reaching for this new goal would still translate into another 30 minutes or so of this splish splash running. We decided to follow the stream to its source at the canal sluice gate where we would make our decision to turn for home or stick it out to the bitter end. Following the stream was easier said than done as the small single tracks running alongside the stream had themselves turned into conduits of muddy ankle deep water. At the canal sluice gate the need to seek dryness and warmth got the better of us and we turned east to follow the now drowned tow path back to the car parked still some 20-25 minutes away. So if you had been out there today, you would have seen two drowned runners running along a drowned tow path and you would have questioned their sanity. Still, 90 minutes and 8 miles later we reached the shelter of our car, towelled ourselves down and drove home happy enough with our decision to end the madness of running in a storm.

Happy running out there.