Rain batters off the window. I lie in bed listening to it. It is my favourite sound, until I remember I have to get up and go out.
I get up and pull on layers of clothing. Definitely a day for a hat and jacket and gloves. Then into the car, with just a piece of fruit for breakfast and energy.
I manage to get parked and walk to the start line, hunched up against the rain that shows no sign of relenting. The wind gusts around, making the rain slant horizontally.
There’s music playing and a loud PA shouting out indistinguishable words. The crowd of gathered runners are exuberant. There’s plenty of fist-pumping and waving and greetings and warm-up exercises and laughter. I can’t bring myself to join in.
The space fills until as the start time approaches. A fitness trainer leads a mass warm-up. Everyone jostles for position as the firing gun cracks and the elite runners set off. We walk forward until the start line is visible. I set my watch and start jogging and instantly feel better. Even the rain abates as we all began our half-marathon. I even manage to raise a smile of encouragement with some fellow runners around me.
I lie in bed and listen to the rain battering off the window and I can’t wait until I have to get up and go out for a race.
Looking forward to the post-pandemic world when we’re allowed to gather in groups again and take part in mass participation running events. I’m not an exuberant runner, but running on my own is getting a bit tiresome!