A little fall of rain...

It's been miserable weather in Peterborough today. Just right for running up and down the embankment to get some of the white off those shoes.

Before setting out, I went over to hassle Nige, because it is becoming something of an addiction. The problem here was that the heart rate monitor on the garmin hasn't been working. I've been getting no shocks out of it at all. No, it just isn't recording my heart rate, which makes me feel somewhat relieved that I may acheive a level of fitness that isn't too embarrassing before Sal works out how unfit I am, but also frustrated that she isn't seeing how much work I'm putting into these exercises. Although it was working in early days, so she'll still get some idea. I wanted to know if I was doing something boneheaded that was causing the heartrate monitor to not work. This was something of a minefield, because I wasn't offering to show him where I was putting the monitor, especially not in the open plan office. Scratch that, at all.

We (he) quickly figued out what the problem was. The battery area was wet inside, and the battery was corroding. Which was good, it meant I didn't even have to wear it.

I went outside, and after helping a gentleman whose umbrella had blown inside out, I set out for the embankment. By the time I got there, it was raining proper, and I was wet through. I didn't have any music to keep me entertained, because I left my headphones at home, and also because I'm not convinced my iPhone likes being that wet. I discovered recently that for obvious reasons of "health and safety", ipods and the like are banned from the actual race, which saddened me because I wanted to ensure that my setlist had The Magnets version of Living on a Prayer about half way round, so it could go "Woa-oh! We're half way the-re". Anyway, it made me think maybe I should do at least some training without music. And I can be "at one with nature" more.

Well, the elements were the thing to be "at one" with today. The other wild element was a tramp, who wandered quite slowly over to where I was running. He was about 50 yards away when I got onto my third repetition, and had got all the way over by the 4th. I suspect he was thinking "this is like Deja vu, all over again", because he stayed just to make sure his eyes hadn't gone funny for another couple of times. I lost count at 7, having decided to trust Sal and press the "stop" key on the garmin (this didn't make sense - I've been pressing the lap key the rest of the time, but no one's lap appeared for me to sit on). I expect she'd be happy as long as I was consistent about it.

Well the trainers looked a little less white than when I started, although still quite glary (there isn't a flash on this camera). I imagine that by the time I'm ready for the race, they will look properly "Peterboroughed", i.e. have hyperdermic needles and used condoms stuck to the bottom of them. This is, of course, because of the disgusting habit people have in Peterborough of spitting their gum out onto the pavement.


A lady I passed on my run brightly said "not a good day for a run!", but I was forced to shout after her "Ah, but it might be raining on Race Day". I had to explain this theory several times, including to the lady on the front desk, who was shaking her head in consternation. "There's method in my madness" I said, quoting Sherlock Holmes, although I seem to recall that on this occasion, the police inspector muttered "Some might say there's madness in his method", which could be equally true.

Back at the ranch, my damp state did not go un-noticed (I have a photo of how wet I looked, but well, let's just say don't ask a bloke to take your picture when you're wearing a wet t-shirt; it wasn't really focusing on my wet hair), and provoked a coffee-time discussion on whether I'd need a shower (or if I can just "Wash and Go"... or perhaps "Go, and Wash" - Take time to step into the shower after my run? No, I just run with a bottle of Shampoo..."). Colin was entertained to learn that I was recording in my blog the comments people make (especially about Sally), more so when I mentioned that she then reads them. "Do you ascribe who makes the comment in this blog?" he wanted to know. "Often", I told him. "Then I'd just like to say how much I enjoy working along side Sally" he said.

Anyway, I composed a little song while I was running today, which, like on I'm Sorry I haven't a Clue, one song to the tune of another, but this is more, "one song, not very well re-written, so you may have to get a few extra syllables into a line"... it is loosely based on "A Little Fall of Rain", which is sung by Eponine in Les Miserables as she is dying in the arms of whatsisface. I dedicate it to Sally.

"A little fall of rain will hardly hurt me now
I'm running, that's all you need to know
And you can make me do hills, and you can make me pace
And think of other tortures as we go".

Beautiful and moving, I think you'll agree.