Too bad it doesn't actually rain men...

My dad and I had been planning on doing a 5-mile race together this morning, as a nice father/daughter activity. But, when I blearily woke up to the sound of my alarm clock (er, my dad's voice this morning), I saw that the rain was coming down pretty hard and it was decided that a 1-hour drive to a race that could quite possibly be done in pouring rain was not something we wanted to do.

Fast forward 2 hours later: I stumbled out of bed and down to the kitchen, grabbed myself some breakfast, and sat down at the table in front of the TV to watch a rerun of So You Think You Can Dance with my adorably tired kid sister (who would absolutely kill me if she saw the words "adorably" and "kid" in one sentence. Ah, 13-year-old hormones...how I do not miss you). I was nice and comfortable and relaxed in my pajamas and had really been planning on postponing my run to this afternoon, when it was supposedly going to clear up and warm up. But my dad had other ideas.

Just as I finished eating he approached me with one of those 'revolutionary' ideas that fathers so often have.

"Wanna go to the trail in xxxx?" he asked.
"Um...sure. Why not." was of course my reply. What was I supposed to say? After all, the rain had stopped and the trail is pretty much flat, at least compared to the hilly neighborhood that I live in.

When we got to the trail, the rain was picking up again. But we had driven a half hour and there was no going back now. We tied up our running shoes, grabbed a bottle of water, and headed off on what we knew would be a 5-mile out and back run (5 miles total, that is. 20 minutes out and 20 minutes back).

Starting off, the clouds were simply spitting out a fine mist that felt pretty darn refreshing in the thick humidity. By mid-run, the fine mist turned into a steady sprinkle. By the end of the run, well, it was practically raining chickens (not quite enough rain to qualify as cats and dogs). My hair was soaked, my clothes were soaked, sweaty rainwater was dripping off my nose...I actually quite enjoyed it....for a while. With about 1/2 mile left, the rain picked up something fierce and I found myself wondering why the heck I put myself through this some days and wishing for some equally soaked eye candy while humming (in my head) that famous Weather Girls' song. But really, if it rained men, I would not be able to run because, with my luck, I would be hit by some 220 pound football player.

Overall, the run was mediocre, which goes along perfectly with every other run I've had this week. But tomorrow is Monday so I'm crossing my fingers and hoping for a fresh start.