Rain! Puddles! Mud! Barefoot!
Lots of sitting at work this week . . . so even though it had been raining off and on the last two days, I knew I needed to force myself to get out and move this afternoon, mud or no mud.
Ha . . . that’s not true . . . I don’t see wet trails as a problem any more, but as a enticing solution to inside-itis: mud-love is exactly why I ran today!
Ponder this: running should never be a punishment (children in physical education classes should only be allowed to run as a privilege for good behavior, not as a payment for behavioral crimes).
And this sort-of-related bit: wet weather and muddy trails (especially in this dry dry dry place), should be a reason to run, not an excuse to stay indoors. And my bare feet barely left record of my passing, unlike deep-tread foot coffins which would have torn up the trails.
Bonus reward for running through intact California native plant habitat after rain: the sensuous smells!
Fruity yerba santa, musky sycamore, spicy laurel sumac, bittersweet sage, green-licious mule fat . . . after rain there is such an olofactorical orgy of sniffing delight . . . which I had all to myself as I trotted quietly through the familiar alleys of shrubs made unfamiliar today by droplets delicately dangling from leaf tips. The local birds seemed to be relishing the wet renewal, and their end-of-day songs only added to the sacred feel of twilight under oaks and sycamore.
Do I love the rain?
Do I really need to answer?