Running in the Rain is Fun

The alarm went off at exactly 5:40am. I rose, instantly wide-awake. I could hear the patting sound of raindrops as it hit the ground. I was a little discouraged by it and tempted to bury my head back into the pillow for a second round of sleep, but a little dash of hope that the rain would have completely stopped by the time I was done praying and getting ready erased my doubts, plus I couldn't bear to disappoint myself  back to back.

The previous morning, I had woken up about the same time, pulled back the curtain above the headboard to snatch a glimpse of the sky. Seeing it was pitch black, I had retired back, pushed my mental snooze button trusting to wake- say 6ish, at the first gleam of light over the sky. Few minutes later, I had suddenly snapped out of sleep, retrieved my phone from under the pillow to check the time, and to my disappointment it turned out that a few minutes snooze was actually an hour, fifteen minutes. At that point, the sun shone through the translucent curtains, and I could hear my mother's usual countenance to Channel 254's 'Sunrise Daily' as she brewed her tea- some things she couldn't possibly do quietly. It meant I had missed my early morning jog.

I said a short prayer, hopped out of bed and into my work-out gear.

It was still showering, and a bit chilly. 'Such perfect time to be no where else but in snoozeland', I thought. As I descended the stairs I mumbled a wish that the showers would stop. It seemed the rain heard me, because it stopped just as I was about stepping out of the gates.

I hit the road running. I must have ran far enough to have felt warm beads of sweats break out on my head down my back, harmonizing so pleasantly with the chilliness. Just then, the showers began again- at that moment a little heavier. I felt the cold water melting away the Cantu Conditioner in my hair, mixing with the splash of rain and warm sweats on my face down my neck until I felt my garments absorb it all. The closest thing that felt similar was a childhood experience of playing in the rain, slowly emptying my bowel on myself and enjoying the warmness of my pee in contrast to the cold rain.

I briskly walked by a Filling Station, and coincidentally an Igbo Christian song played loudly from invisible speakers- something about 'God sending down rain and fresh air......' I always wrote off songs like that as whiny and uninspiring, but this time I thought this one was apt. I felt like a recipient of a miracle and my heart leapt in gratitude. I lifted up my face towards the sky to feel the sprinkles directly, and a fresh surge of energy swept through me. My brisk walk broke into a run.

I noticed some other people run past me to the shelter in sight and wondered why. Perhaps, the man on suit was too beaten up (for forgetting his umbrella) or the lady with a black bag on her head was only bothered about her hairdo.

To me, I relished how my hair hung loose and dangled with every step. I relished the splash of water when my feet landed in puddles. I relished the brush of breeze and rain on my face.  I relished the strength to run farther tirelessly. I relished.....

If you've never run in the rain, please do.