Training in the rain is sexy

It’s rain soaked mud strewn, wet and tired and warm with sweat and heart beating exhilaration.

It’s light winter drizzle that comes in waves as you run and steams off bodies and out of mouths leaving lips wet and salty and hair across your face.

It’s lying on the grass catching your breath, face up to the sky and feeling the drops pelting your cheeks from the black infinity above.

It’s thunder. Sudden.

It’s peeling clothes off and stepping out of mud flakes on the bathroom floor into a burst of warm water all over naked bodies. Catching your breath again.