Boys in the rain

On the past weekend’s little trail runs I remembered (a long ago running partner) Rick Shaeffer’s comment: When I was little. my mom shouted “Come out of the rain, stop jumping in puddles, you’ll get wet and dirty.” Now I run in the rain, jump in the puddles and take photos of mud-splats all over me”. Okay maybe I made up some of the words but you get the idea. I imagined the light in his grin.


Wake to downpour, drink slow coffee, step into drizzle. Run cold, hands in pockets. Trees-drip, gutters gurgle. Rain goes. Shift gear, arms up, what’s this? Just a jump from tractor power to free-plopping. Smile rise, grin bake, car swoosh, lights go green. Gear down, gear doWN, step into puddle. Laugh loud, clouds open – there, Scorpion’s stars. Home too soon. Sweat wet, nod to towel at the door. Tomorrow even more.


real running

Awake 10 min before the alarm, keen to run after rest days and the 5k yesterday. Quickly passed the hour I give my body to sip coffee, wake, rid itself of waste, muse and maybe talk to my son in Taiwan. Quickly, silkily went the 8ks run in a light drizzle. Legs great, spirit sparkling. Freshen in the now chilly pool, crunch an apple, chew an orange; life ahead.