Ugh. I am writing this while still wet, cold and gumpy, so brace yourselves folks, for my first non-pollyanna-esque post.
I need to add some qualifications to 'Why cycling in the rain is amazing'. I have decided it is only amazing if you have the right kit. This morning I left the house under blue skies, wearing a t-shirt and jogging bottoms with my handbag in my basket and my pretty, not-very waterproof pannier on the back. Ten minutes from home the heavens opened. I had packed my waterproof, I'm experienced enough for that, but it was needed to cover up my handbag. When I know it is going to rain I pack everything in the pannier in plastic bags (style and practicality, you see), but today my change of clothes and my laptop were horribly vulnerable. The rain was the kind Forrest Gump calls (adopt slow southern accent) 'itty bitty rain', but which I would like to rename 'spiteful, scouring rain' and before long I was exfoliated, soaked and freezing. My joggers absorb water better than bounty kitchen roll, and my t-shirt? Well. I wouldn't have wanted to run into my boss.
Perhaps the worst thing about cycling in the rain unprepared is that, and here I throw all vanity aside, it gives you Spam Arms. Some female readers will identify- in extremes of temperature the flesh at the tops of my arms turns an unpleasant, mottled deep pink colour, resembing nothing better than processed sandwich meat.
And no-one wants to start their day with Spam Arms.
In order to remain friends with the rain it is time to smarten up. I'm off to buy the yearly long leather gloves which are the perfect combination of warm, dry and just a little bit Cruella De Ville. I will not be fooled again.