No, really I do.
When the air is still and the rain cascades from the heavens I get a strange secure feeling which, no matter what else is going on around me, makes everything seem alright.
The first awareness of the emotion (I can describe it as no different thing) came during a maths test at primary school when seemingly far too many questions had been set for too short a duration of test and I was equally aware that time was ticking, my mind was working overtime on the sums (I remember not what they were but I suspect they were pretty elementary) and the rain beyond the rapidly misting windows was falling heavily and steadily. I felt calm and in control despite my fears that I wouldn’t get finished.
I get the same feeling inside now during such weather patterns. But today wasn’t the day to feel calm, happy nor comtemplative – for a second Monday in succession, I was up at an unreasonable time, dressed for a cycle ride, eaten and lunch made all in the hope that the steady precipitation would stop by 6 o’clock. It didn’t. By 6.15 it was still bucketing down with an enthusiasm that would have had me wet to the core by the 3 mile mark where woods start and cover can be gained.
I drove to work.
Still enjoyed the wind free day, mind, but with the missing achievement of a cycle commute. (Same reasons for not cycling as last week, by the way. Getting to work drowned isn’t a good way for a manager to behave).
Which left this evening. Many plans were hatched, none of which involved running in case my foot plays up again. All early plans were thwarted by JB declaring dinner would be a) delicious and b) quick to make, so by the time greenhouses were watered and lilly beetle larvae squashed it was time for JB to declare “I feel like the mother of a 9 year old…I shouldn’t have to tell you that no, there isn’t time to fly your helicopter no matter how little wind there is. Sit down and be grateful I’ve cooked for you”!
So sit I did, eat I did, “Yum” I declared and then washing up was executed.
Shortly after it was time to Juneathon and part of the plan was to pop to Folkestone to swap cars and get my lights fixed, during which I’d ride the skateboard around the town and seafront as alternative Juneathon activity points. Unfortunately it started raining again so I popped out on the BMX to play around the local carpark (Switzerland Squeekers and roll backs were the plan-du-jour for skills assessment – see how little I can do decently having not practiced properly in over two years) where I found it was football practice day so the car park was full. Thwarted again I simply chcose a small route to practice manuals (wheelies without pedalling; possibly the most floaty, fun feeling ever to be experienced when you get one right. Which I rarely do) and hops. As it turns out this equates to 2.39 miles. Curtailed in time by having to get the car I put the deck in the vehicle in case there would be a miraculous drying out by the time I got to the coast but there wasn’t.
That’s Juneathon today, I’m afraid. A little pathetic but done.
759.15 miles to go.
41.91 Juneathon running miles.
388.21 Juneathon cycling miles.