Just Singing and Running in the Rain

I decided that in spite of the very English weather, I was long overdue for a run today. Strange and mysterious illness had kept me abed in Wimbledon since Sunday evening, so when I got home this morning, my resolve was set. Not to mention that a Saturday morning run was entirely out of the question after staying up until 2am the night before driving back from Reading and getting to bed. It was a good night though - Sebastian and I went out for Keith and Carsten's birthday party, which included some nice autumnal outdoor time around a bonfire, requisite accompanying marshmallow roasting (said marshmallows becoming makeshift s'mores when Rachel and I fondue-dipped the Cadbury's chocolate fingers), and a cosy viewing of Corpse Bride. The spread definitely had a large component of sugary treats, such that my dinner that night - I'm ashamed to admit - consisted of those faux-s'mores with Rachel, a few Thai ginger crisps, a glass of Sprite, and several handfulls of Haribo gummies. I'm also mildly ashamed to admit that I have such a fondness for the little Coke bottle Haribo that not only did I cherry pick them from the bowl myself when possible, I discovered that Sebastian had made a little cache of them for me in his jacket pocket. Now that's love!

But back to today:

When I got up this morning it was dark...after sleeping through most of Monday, waking up around 6am wasn't difficult in the least. By the time I was out of the house at about half-seven, the drizzly rain had already begun in earnest. So up went the hood and - lamenting the fact that my wellies were back at the flat - I set off for the Tube.

After some lazy time in the morning, which included napping to The Count of Monte Cristo, I decided it was time to be productive. The first stop was Waitrose in hopes that the internet had not led me astray in supposing that they carried my coveted Libby's canned pumpkin. Alas, when I anxiously approached the canned fruit aisle, not only was the selection pitifully small, there was no pumpkin as I had been led to believe. Either I'll be bribing my sister to send some from the States, or else it'll be pumpkin pie and pumpkin muffins this Thanksgiving and Christmas done Mormon Pioneer style: from the sweat of my brow...and lots of hand-mashed pumpkin.

After my disappointing grocery store sojourn, it was time for the aforementioned run, and so, I suited up and went out into the humid grey of the afternoon. I decided it was time for something of a change of pace, so it was off to Hyde Park and the Albert Memorial for an hour of the afternoon. The weather held fairly until the return journey, when it drizzled, then rained, then poured. Honestly, by the time it was well on the way to really tipping it down, I was enjoying myself more than at any point in the run. There's something so energising about running in the pouring rain. It feels a bit like being a little kid again, and so - if you can hold that mindset - you are imbued with little kid-like energy to finish off a good 5-mile circuit with a smile on your face, in spite of the sopping wetness and the panting lungfulls of air you must gulp in so as not to collapse from oxygen deprivation and the stitch in your side. It's a beautiful feeling.

It's a lazy night in tonight after having called home. Since I'm the only person I have to feed tonight, I've become terminally lazy. My only concession to the culinary arts will be to chop up some fresh pineapple to go on my frozen pepperoni pizza. I figure that if I made biscuits and chilli for Conference weekend, I'm more than entitled to a bit of laziness when on my own. This is what happens when Sebastian leaves town for work. I foresee the start of a long-term trend here.