I don't think Seattle is rainy at all. But then I grew up in the west of Ireland.

So since I started running back in April, I've had to run in the rain exactly three times. Three. Maybe four, max. And not because I was avoiding the rain, or because I cancelled or postponed runs when it was bucketing down. It was just never raining whenever I wanted to run.

How unlike my homeland, with its eight months of winter followed by four months of early spring.

But oh, this morning in Seattle at 6AM it was cold and wet and dark, and heading out took the willpower of an Omarosa hunting down a TV crew. But you know? It was only about three minutes before I heated up, and for the rest of my run it was like I was inside this glowing Riona-shaped heat capsule, pounding its way down Eastlake Avenue.

I love running in the rain.