Running in the Rain

 Welcome to the Spot Writers. This week's assignment is to write a story that begins with the words "and then it started to rain." Today's tale comes to us from Val Muller, the author of The Corgi Capers kid lit mystery series.

Running in the Rain

by Val Muller

 And then it started to rain. There he was, dressed for a run during one of the longest droughts on record, ready to start training, and now this downpour. In this rain, his shoes would be soaked in minutes, and so would his knee brace.

The worry in Mike's gut dissipated with his anxiety over running up the hill on Blakeney Court or his concern he would hit a wall five miles in and have to shuffle back home. And no one would be able to judge him for this. Knee surgery wasn't easy, and neither was running. Why, he should get a medal just for getting dressed.

He hurried under the overhang and navigated as best he could to the apartment's gym, managing to stay mostly dry. As if in conspiracy with the rain, the elliptical and treadmills were all taken. Only the weight bench and the bike remained open.

How easy would that be? It was like getting away with murder. No running. Easy bike. Maybe a few weights. His knee would have no chance to fail. There would be no pain.

He started the workout, choosing a rigorous hill course that took 45 minutes to complete. See? Rigorous. No one could judge him. Less than a mile in, though, and he knew it was too easy. Better than nothing, obviously, but if he really wanted to make a change, this bike was not the way to go. Was this really the best use of his workout time?

An old woman walked into the gym. She chose the bike next to Mike and opened a novel. "Nice day for biking," she said. "It's really coming down out there," she said. She started biking in a leisurely way, going slowly enough that she could read her novel.

Mike kept it up for another mile, but he kept looking outside. The rain had been a heavenly chorus, and excuse, but now it was mocking him. It was telling him he couldn't do it, encouraging him to give up.

He got off the bike, wiped it down, and nodded a good day to the woman next to him. Outside, the rain was heavy. Steady. His feet were soaked within his first two steps, and the rain soaked the front of his shirt. At the same time, he smiled. He'd forgotten how fun it was to run in the rain. Like being a kid again, like the universe was winking.

The pitter-patter of the rain matched his footsteps as he turned up Blakeney Court and smiled.

The Spot Writers—Our Members: 

Val Muller: http://valmuller.com/blog/

Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com

Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/