Tropical Rain

There's nothing quite like a run in dumping, driving, warm tropical rain.  It looked like it was going to be one of those days...the kind where the rain just doesn't stop for anything.  I needed to run.  Running in driving rain through flooded streets and alleys is actually a lot of fun.  Once I got over the initial shock of "I am soaked to the bone, and I've been running for exactly 7 seconds," I just embraced the puddle stomping kid in me that only surfaces every once in awhile these days.

I slogged my way through the rice paddy, watching the narrow canals fill with more and more water every minute.  There's something about rainy and eighty-five that feels distinctly different than rainy and forty.  It's fun...occasionally.  And as my run neared its end, the rain disappeared as if someone had turned off a faucet.  I rounded the final corner and came face to face with a gigantic pig rolling in the mud in my path.  Drenched to the core, I could do nothing but smile at my partner in crime and give him a pat on the nose as I passed - bonding over our shared pleasure of wallowing in tropical rain.