63 Degrees and Rainy

It's January 27th today.

The middle of Winter.

The coldest season of the year.

And I left my house at 8:30 this morning in my light, 3/4 sleeve jacket.

Because it was 63 degrees outside.

At 8:30 in the morning.

WHAT?!

Lest you get too very jealous of my weather luck, it was also a rainy morning - when it felt like being so.

At the exact moment I was pulling myself out of bed, I heard the wave of pouring rain descend on our house. Being in the attic, I feel particularly close to the weather, and when it rains, it sounds like it will come through my ceiling at any moment (no problems yet, luckily!).

By the time I got out of the shower, the rain was gone, leaving only giant puddles as evidence it had ever come.

I was not at all sure whether I should wear my rain boots to work or not - it was wet, so it seemed valid, but I feel silly wearing them when it's not actually raining.

At the last minute, I threw my rain boots on, deciding to be safe and dry instead of...well, instead of not safe and not dry. Then I grabbed an old umbrella that turned out to be slightly broken, but still usable (my good umbrella was at my office), and I made my way out.

Then I realized I left my keys in my room, so I ran upstairs again (as fast as one can in rain boots, with still very sore legs from CrossFit-ing), and then again left the house for work.

I made it to the Metro a little slower than usual (rain boots slow me down), but otherwise without incident - a few drops fell from the sky every few minutes during that walk - and then saw the train I wanted to catch go past me. I waited only 4 minutes for the next train I wanted, got to the next station to change trains, saw the train I wanted to catch go past me, and waited 2 minutes for the next train to come, then got to my stop and got off.

These setbacks - the keys and the 2 missed trains - turned out to be a little more unfortunate than I had anticipated when I was just worrying about being 5 minutes late to work.

Walking to the escalators, I saw a number of people already pulling out their umbrellas, even though we were still somewhat protected underground. But I quickly felt the rain being blown down the stairs by the wind, and I realized that I was very glad I had worn my rain boots.

It was pouring outside.

Somehow I managed to stay pretty dry as I walked down the sidewalk to my building. I just missed the chance to cross the street and had to wait for the light to change again, using the time to adjust my umbrella so the broken part didn't pour water into my purse or down my back.

45 seconds do not pass quickly when you're standing in a downpour, waiting to cross the street.

45 seconds is also enough time to learn that what one might consider a downpour in one instance can feel like a light sprinkle in another instance - for in those 45 seconds, the rain went from pouring down to crashing down. It felt like buckets of water were being thrown down on me.

In the 10 seconds before I could cross the street in search of protection, I went from being amazingly dry to amazingly drenched. I remembered that my "rain jacket" is not actually waterproof. I learned that my gym bag is not at all waterproof. And I thanked the heavens that I wore my rain boots. And I wished I had waterproof pants.

I walked as quickly as I could, giggling at how sopping wet I was and how hard the rain was coming down. I passed two tourists seeking refuge under a clump of trees and a large umbrella. I ran up the stairs to the door, laughing with another girl about how ridiculous that sudden rainstorm was, and being grateful I had as much of me covered as I did. There were a number of poor souls I passed on the sidewalk (mostly men) who were not so well-covered and were soaked right through their dress shirts (at least this time it wasn't from sweat like it usually is...).

It's been a long time since I've been caught in such a wicked rainstorm. And I was so close to work when it came crashing down the hardest - I couldn't help but feel like those few minutes of delays earlier are the reason the knees of my pants are just barely starting to feel dry again. I might've missed the worst of it, had I not been delayed.

Luckily, I seem to have woken up in a good mood, so I don't really mind. If I'm going to get rained on, I'd prefer to get really rained on. It makes it a little more fun. Plus, I love the look of raindrops bouncing off the ground like they do during such powerful rainstorms.

And I really love walking right through giant puddles in my sweet rain boots.