HomeA wet run (according to ChatGPT)
I recorded the impressions of a run in this blog post. For fun I thought I might see if ChatGPT could improve it.
Did it?
I don't think so. Seems a bit rubbish to me.
But perhaps these things are subjective.
You judge.
Toowoomba's reputation for wet and cold weather held true once again. Despite my usual luck in avoiding inclement conditions during my walks and runs, today was different. The previous night's rain had drenched the city, and I found myself eager to embark on a 5am run, fully aware that I would inevitably get wet.
To protect my best running shoes from becoming soaked and unpleasant, I opted for my trusty old pair. The rain would render my glasses useless within a few steps, so I left them behind. Though the cold nipped at me, I knew the exertion of running would soon warm me up, rendering a raincoat unnecessary.
Stepping out from the shelter of my eaves, I felt the first icy droplets land on my shoulders, sending a shiver down my spine. Turning right past Fernside, I bid farewell to the protection of Charlie's hedge and was instantly met with a biting blast of easterly wind. While such gusts were expected along the escarpment, doubt lingered in my mind, questioning whether I had made a terrible mistake by venturing out.
The glare of my headlamp made it challenging to differentiate between the glossy black pavement and the shiny black puddles that had formed. Consequently, my shoes and socks quickly succumbed to the soaking.
However, despite the unfavorable conditions, the run turned out to be surprisingly enjoyable. Prince Henry, my chosen route, remained deserted. No walkers, cyclists, or cars were willing to brave the elements. The novelty of the situation allowed me to distance my mind from the usual concerns of injury and fatigue, resulting in a newfound balance within my body that had been absent for months.
With a comfortable and leisurely pace, I followed the familiar clockwise path through Prince Henry. As I reached the apex of Bridge and Curzon, I glanced back at the blurry lights gradually fading towards Ruthven. In that moment, it seemed as though the running gods were favoring me—was today the day for a long run?
Regrettably, it was not to be.
Yet, I harbored no remorse as I made a left turn, directing myself homeward, and eagerly anticipating the warmth of the shower. 7.2km covered in these challenging conditions proved to be sufficient for the day.
I considered it a victory, one to be treasured.
Now was the time to relish the unexpected delight and invigoration that this run had brought me.
