Rain in Africa

I left Africa at the age of ten, born in South Africa and growing up in Kariba, Zimbabwe from the age of five. Kariba is a hot, dry place with temperatures ranging from on average 14ºC to 36ºC. I can remember the temperature hitting the 50's. The rainy season runs from November to March. The rain doesn't fall like it does in England.

You can smell the rain before it comes. This is known as petrichor, and is the smell of water hitting dry dust - we can smell it coming as it drenches the land as it approaches. A huge pressure builds up, and there is a lot of thunder, lightning, and thick, fast, heavy rain for short periods of time. Shortly after the rain has started, it stops. Danger of being hit by lightning aside, it is one of a child's great pleasures to run out into the rain and get absolutely soaked. It's such a novel experience that it brings joy, wonder and relief as plants are watered, reservoirs refilled and the burning heat alleviated for a short while.

The last time I went out in rain like this, I was 14 and doing my newspaper round in Devon, England. The rain was falling unusually heavily, and I took great joy in stomping in puddles, jumping in streams and getting thoroughly soaked, as I was stranded half a mile from home and unable to stay dry. Since that day, sensibilities have taken over - the knowledge of drying clothes, potential colds, brushing hair out, the discomfort of wet shoes.

I'm telling you all of this because today I got stuck in the rain on my run. It was liberating - I was once again feeling sick, and the cold rain brought relief from the heat that was radiating out of me. I was running in thick, heavy, African-type rain for at least 2km, and the memories that were invoked helped to distract me from the most demotivating run I've done so far.

Although my map says I ran 6.4km, I did not - I reckon I did maybe 4.5km of this. I phoned John from Finsbury Park Station and asked him what to do. I was throwing up, feeling sick, totally fed up and ready to give in on the whole thing. He recommended that I at least walk my 5 km, and if I felt I would be able to run again then I could do that. I rested for 20 minutes, then started walking, and eventually running. I had planned to cut the run short, I was feeling so sick - but instead, I added on 1.4km to try make up for the 20 minute break and the walking that I had done.

Tonks started licking me dry when I got home.

I stopped in the running shop on the way past and begged them for some advice. They recommended I go to my doctor - so an appointment is booked. I suppose it's not all bad, as I still haven't decided to give up. Yet.

Much love,

Corrie xx