Drowned rat syndrome

Don't you just love the English weather, there I was not able to sleep listening to the rain lashing the windows, the wind howling and thinking I need to get up in half an hour to do some training for the Jogle. When it struck me if I got up and got on with it I could spend some time with my boys and Caroline before I set off through the damp to work.
So up I got, donned every bit of waterproof gear I possess and headed out into the dark. I had reached the top of the drive by the time I was a little damp, the mainroad by the time drops of water were dripping off my nose, and full drowned rat syndrome by the time I turned for home after three quarters of an hour.
If you've ever wondered how deep one of those all over the road lakes that appear at this time of the year can be, I can assure you my semi submersible craft (or bike with 12 and a half stone of me upon it) felt to be just about mudguard level when I hit the middle.
Bizarrely (or not if you know me) I had a whale of a time, splashing through the puddles singing singing in the rain. Though luckily the wet footprints from my socks on the dining room and kitchen floors dried quickly, otherwise I think Caroline may have had something to say about it, other than her current level of comment to Oliver that "your Dad's a little bit mad".