Going Commando

It's been raining all week - not torrential rain but good solid, soaking rain that's filling our dams and my front yard. (I always thought that a moat would be a nice water feature. Now all I need is a couple of swans)

But despite the rain our speed session was on yesterday morning. Chris texted us the day before to let us know that it WOULD NOT be cancelled. So there was really no excuse for not turning up - except for being a total wuss. I am not a total wuss. I am totally hard-core. I, and 14 other hardy souls, arrived in the pouring rain wearing our oldest shoes (so we can keep our good shoes good).

Chris was kind and scheduled the session on the road so we weren't having to run through puddles. It didn't make a lot of difference though. Five minutes into the session and the shoes were weighing at least a kilo more that five minutes before.

There's something about running in the rain that releases the inner child. I had a blast. We ran intervals of 30 secs, 45 secs and 60 secs. We even had spectators! A family of ducks came to watch the stupid humans run round and round in circles.

Afterwards I went off to the athletics track to shower and it was there that I discovered that I'd totally forgotten to put any underwear in my bag when I'd packed it the previous night. No bra! No knickers! It was a dilemma. I didn't have time to drive back home before meeting Jenny for breakfast so my options were to wear the sodden, dripping ones I'd taken off or to liberate my inner hippy and go commando. I chose option #2 and I can tell you now that I did NOT feel liberated. I felt very self-conscious and very grateful that I'd put in a jacket just in case I was cold.