The sunshine is back in Brisbane. In a fashion. The light filters down through a veil of cloud cover; sometimes brightly, and other times, less so. So, maybe the description at best, is that at least it isn't raining. For now.
It meant I could do my hill repeats dry yesterday. Not so for my long run last weekend, which I started in the rain, and finished in the rain.
There were a couple of brief periods when the rain paused. But mostly, it rained. I don't enjoy running in the rain but the thing that got me out the door was maths induced fear. As I lay in bed contemplating what lay ahead, I counted out on my fingers the weekends and long runs I've got left before my next race, the Run Like Crazy marathon on December 27.
Sunday 10; Sunday 17; Sunday 24; Sunday 31.... Sunday 7; Sunday 14; Sunday 21; Sunday 28. Then maybe the 5th of December, leaving a few weeks to taper.
Nine long runs. I'm only up to 21ks this week. Yep. I definitely had to go.
When I first set off I was gingerly picking my way through the puddles on the path. By the end of the run, I stomped through the puddles without even noticing the squishing and squelshing in my socks. There wasn't any point in pussy-footing around. Things were different. I was wet through - I couldn't get any wetter.
This was reflective of what was going on in my mind. The moment I stepped outside the front door and it was drizzing, I felt negative about the experience ahead of me.
Before too long I'd turned this around. After all, it's a pretty big win mentally to start running in the rain. When conditions are poor, it's really easy to just give it a miss. I held on to this, and by the end of the run, I felt like I'd won. It's as if every K is worth two in filling that bucket for race day.
Despite what you can take away from having the strength to punish yourself in such miserable conditions, while the sun is here, I'll enjoy it.
I have a sneaking suspicion that the forecast ahead isn't so good, but for now, the sun is back.