Spending a few days down south, have managed to get out for several runs, 4-6 miles long.
Each and every time, it has absoloutely hammered down. I have been blattered on down the Hove Seafront, on Palmeira Square, and had the sky personally wet its pants on me as I swept (ha) by The Royal Sussex Hospital.
But it's always worth it, and it always makes me feel better.
I have run down to the Hove harbour, past the Lagoons water park, a rather unfriendly looking place at this time of year as its boats and windsurfers shiver in the watery breeze. I quested after a fish shop, and found it shut; luckily I have an excellent cook to make delicious battered whiting for me, which is much appreciated. I look out for interesting things, constantly.
Wildlife wise, the seafront isn't great really. Although today, I saw a wagtail down at the harbour and instead of the usual immature Herring Gulls that seem to comprise most of the bird life here, I saw three black backed gulls, probably lesser I guess, bobbing around on the Jade green sea as yummy families attempt to hold insane barbecues in the wet.
Rich though it is for me to speak of madness, as my drenched self ambles past.