Running in the Rain

The raindrops pat my skin, tiny cool kisses on my bare arms. I try to avoid the puddles, but the mud thickens on the soles of my shoes. Surely this makes for a better workout. I adjust my trusty Nike hat and look to my left as the layers of gray clouds gather and cluster in the corn field valleys.

I jog past my favorite barn with its sagging roof and crumbling stone foundation and pretend the black cows that look up at me from their grass buffet are impressed with my pace.

I can hear my own labored breathing and the crunch of gravel above the booming music on my ipod as I climb the hill and reach the top.

It is the first day of genuine autumnal weather. I feel my heart beating, rushing pulses in my ears. I smell the wet earth, the damp leaves, the baptized air.

These rare solo runs are my time to heal, to renew, to store up for all the challenges that will surely arise. For now, it is just me. The road. And the rain.