Tuesday 25 August 2020

Plotting the puddles of Manchester

Rain, Rain, Go Away
What a miserable evening it was in Manchester, the heavens opened with the blessings of rain and I was over 8,000 steps short of my daily target. What to do in such beautiful weather? That is the reputation of glorious Mancunium.
I put on my poncho as the dusk darkened the sky, my eyesight not too accustomed to the diminished light in the rain and even poorly calibrated for stereo vision, I launched out with a plan to stay on the roads walking the pavements which were at best like undulating hills that rose and fell with the regularity of the lack of maintenance.
The exploration of puddles
I had not walked the first 500 metres when the first car splashed me and that became the majority of my journey. If I was not being splashed much as I tried to navigate those bodies of water, I was stepping in puddles, upsetting paving stones that rocked to bathe me in muddy ejections and without wipers on my eyeglasses, I suffered.
My hand towel was wet for a wringing by the 3rd kilometre, but I persevered, I only had to get in just over 6 kilometres for my tracker to buzz at 10,000. In the end, I did just over 9 kilometres and getting home was more than a relief. I probably should split my walks for inclement weather and avoid the night-time if possible. Maybe I need better rain cover than a poncho, my upper body did not get wet, it did leave me any comfortable either.
That’s today, now to consider options for the next. I felt like Doctor Foster when went to Gloucester, thankfully, I did not fall in a puddle up to my middle. Thankfully!

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