I went running last night.   That in itself is no big deal.   The surprising thing is that I went in the middle of a rain storm.  And I’m not talking about a light drizzle.  I’m talking about a bottom falling out of the sky tropical monsoon downpour.  It had been a week since I had been running.  And the last run I had sucked ASS…  i couldn’t even run 1 mile.  I gave up.  It’s been raining here every day for over a week now and the rain washed away all of my running mojo apparantly.  So last night, I was hell bent on running - rain or no rain.

I got ready to go and it started raining.  And then it started raining harder.  I was determined though.  Suddenly it stopped.  I knew I didn’t have much time, but decided to drive down to the lake anyway instead of running around the neighborhood.  I got about 1/2 way through before it started sprinkling.  Another 1/4 way through and it really started to come down.  I was on the total opposite side of the lake and had no choice but to go back to the other side.  So away I went.. people driving by probably thought I was nuts.   I would have done the whole 3.4, but by the time I got back to the 3 mile mark, it was POURING!!  Lightening, everything.  Plus… PLUS… my socks were wet.  I don’t know if I have words to describe the hatred I have for wet socks.  I could feel them squishing in my shoes..  I had to stop. 

But really, when did the need to run become greater than the need to stay dry?!  I felt good, don’t get me wrong.  I think I could actually enjoy running in the rain.. and unless I want to start getting up at 4 am to run, I better get used to it for the summer.

Weight- well, that is steady at mid 180’s.  I’m happy with it right now I think.  I mean, I would like to be less, but I think I’m at a point that I’m so tired of counting calories and all that, i just want to sit here for awhile. I feel if I keep up the running I can do it.  We’ll see.  If I start creeping back up, I’ll have to do damage control