Running in the Rain

The sky was grey and the world barely lit when I opened my eyes.  I lingered in bed for a few minutes. By then a light drizzle had started. It was time for my morning run, but the rain made me hesitant. I started stretching exercises while keeping an eye on the sky. I bet that the rain would stop soon went outside for my run; however, I hedged my bet by leaving my mobile behind.

After a few minutes my prediction proved wrong as dark clouds rolled in from the southwest. I was under some tall eucalyptus trees in the park, running on a path along the lake. The drops of the drizzle were creating a pattern of tiny splashes on the lake's surface, but as the rain gained strength the splashes enlarged and then dissolved into a mist over the water. In just a few seconds, the soft sound of the drizzle became a steady roar.  Emerging from the trees into the open I faced the sting of the drops.

Others walking in the park were better prepared than I was. Some brought out their umbrellas. A group of three men kept walking while chatting away, ignoring the rain. One took shelter under a thick canopy of trees, close to the lake's edge, while another tied a handkerchief around his head in a futile attempt. A woman walking by herself quickened her pace, unfazed by the rain.

I thought of taking shelter under the trees but realized it would be hopeless. By then I had overcome my fear of catching a cold. Letting go, I allowed the rain to drench me.

I remembered the reason children love getting caught in the rain. It is an exhilarating, liberating experience. With no worries about spoiling nice clothes or shorting out the mobile, I surrendered to the downpour. My head was thoroughly wet before other parts of my body. Soon the water sloshed out of my shoes with every step. The brick pavement, which I thought would become slippery, offered enough friction for my shoes.  As the wind picked up the drops stung my face horizontally.

 I thought about all those times in the past when I had received a good drenching. Some years ago I had gone bicycling with a friend to Amudia, a small island to the east of Badda. On our way back, the rain had started just as we disembarked from the boat. Bicycling through the muddy fields east of Bashundhara, my clothes and shoes were coated in a fine red mud. The mud has been washed from the clothes a long time ago, but the memory has remained.

Years ago, I was hiking for several days with a group in backcountry Yosemite in northern California. A fine summer day turned nasty late one night. The freezing rain – which can lead to hypothermia - pelted my tent and woke me, but luckily the extra sealants I had applied earlier to the tent seams held up and I remained dry. My companions were less fortunate with flooded tents and wet belongings. The next day was spent drying their belongings

Fortunately there is no fear of hypothermia from warm Dhaka rain. So I enjoyed my run. Moreover, luck favoured me afterward: I did not catch a cold!

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