I enjoy running.  When it’s sunny and hot.  Not warm, but hot.  95 degrees not 65.  But recently in North Carolina, it seems as if we’ve inherited Florida’s weather flow.  With humidity prevailing and storms emerging almost every evening.  Which doesn’t bode well for someone who likes to run of the late afternoon, when it’s still sunny and hot.  Exceedingly hot.

And so what that means for me is that when I’ve been out running recently.  I’ve suddenly been caught in the middle of a rainstorm.  Or two.  Not according to plan.  But that’s what happens when the weatherman can no longer predict raindrops any better than you can.  You get caught.  In the middle of unexpected storms.

Interestingly enough, unplanned downpours have taught me something.  I’ve discovered that it’s really not that bad running in the rain.  As long as it’s not thundering.  Or lightning.  That running in the rain can actually be refreshing.  Not that I prefer it.  But given the alternative of not running at all (or even worse, having to settle for a treadmill!).  It’s really not that bad.  In fact, it can surprisingly be quite nice.  If you can get past the stares of those who drive by in dryness.   Windshield wipers on.  Avoiding the rain.  That I’m enjoying.  But looking at me.  As if I’m running from something.  Or as if I’ve lost something.  Like my mind maybe.

Working with single adults over the past few years.  I’ve found that when you’re single, it can feel a lot like being caught in the rain.  Unanticipated.  Misunderstood.  Not the norm.

Not all singles have a problem being single.  But some, perhaps many, do.  They’d rather not be caught out in the rain.  Alone.  At all. They’d much rather be behind the windshield.  And the wipers.  With someone in the passenger seat.  Sitting next to them.  Together.  Safety in numbers.  No strange stares.
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