It’s with the aid of my running log that I see last year was only hampered in preparation runs by the cold and the wind. I don’t have one note about rain, let alone lots of it. Which makes today seem even more frustrating after the trials of the last couple of weeks.
It was a reasonably good 12 miles, though. I decided on a route that linked all the longish runs i’ve done since moving here, so a roundabout route to Shadoxhurst, along the lane to link up with Bromley Green, then a loop around nowhere to bring me to within half a mile of home before looping around Park Farm and away towards Stanhope (note I said towards…not too close, not after 11 miles – I wanted to keep my trainers on, after all!) before loping home. At no point was I more than 3 miles from the front door, just in case something went wrong in the weather.
My rain coat started leaking after about half an hour and was piss wet through on the hour mark. My feet were soaked after the third verge excursion to avoid cars in both directions at the same time. Despite all the roads being minor, it seems Ashford vehicles hunt in packs. Swine. The worst upshot of the wet was discovering even my chest was soaking at around the 5 mile mark which, after the discovery, lead to a cold and damp top returning to being stuck to my chest.
Despite this, though, it was a decent run. I couldn’t see through my glasses but I hate running without them so much, they had to stay in place. This lead to some interesting moments of near wrong direction taking when I mistook two farm entrances for the main road until, after a couple of paces, I realised the tarmac had given way to stone. It’s surprising how little I could see until I squinted over the top of the frames, but also testament to just how hard the rain was. I didn’t look at the Garmin all the way round – I set it and locked the bezel after my last wet problems, setting it for virtual pace to monitor how I was going, but gave up worrying about speed when I realised how heavy my feet had become. Everything felt fine and I just kept on, feeling fresh throughout which I think was due to keeping time tight after breakfast as well as having a banana as I left and jelly babies for the run. Very nice. The lack of Garmin view also allowed me to fool myself into thinking I had further to go than I did. This always helps keep me fresh and until the last half mile, I felt good. Felt better when I could focus over the glasses on my trees in the distance, though, and know I was only a couple of hundred yards away (i’ve mixed feeling about cutting the trees down – they’re firs that have been topped but have grown out at the base and tower about 65 feet tall. There are 17 of them; they’re a great wind break but make the front of the house dark. They’re a great landmark but don’t shield the front of the house as well as they should. They keep the frost off the car but cover the windscreen with needles that interfere with the wipers. See what I mean about mixed feelings?)
Then I got home. And peeled my wet clothes off to reveal sore nipples from the seams on the jacket and the wet rubbing. Which turned out to be bleeding when I towelled myself off. Which is only the second time i’ve had nipple problems of a nasty nature, the other being last week after the same jacket rubbed them a bit sore. I’m going to change jackets or stop running in the wet with this one. I think.
So, having resisted referring to my chest in the title and until then, i’ll call it a day. A shorter week to look forward to next week. Will it be tempting fate to wish for better weather in a fortnight for my next long run?