I ran in the rain yesterday.
It was pouring down, hard, for almost the entirety of my 5.22 miles and nearly an hour-long exercise. The “almost” is in there because I didn’t leave the house until it had slacked off a bit, the rain becoming a drizzle, lulling me into thinking that hey, maybe it won’t rain the entire time.
Of course, less than a minute or two from home, the rain picked up again, and pretty much did not stop for the rest of the day.
I had my iPhone with me, sealed up tight in not just one, but two ziploc bags, arranged so their openings were at different ends of the phone. Still, I worried that somehow, water would work its way in and render my expensive smartphone useless.
I’ve run in the rain before. I’ve even enjoyed it before. But late last year, I allowed any excuse to prevent me from running. It’s too cold. It’s raining. It’s too warm. I’m too tired.
But in the last month or two, I’ve begun, again, to run. Even in the rain.
In fact, I ran stronger for the entire five-plus miles than I have in a while. Sure, I’ve had faster, shorter sessions, but that one on Sunday was steady nearly the entire way. The speed workouts I do once or twice a week really do help. So does losing weight. I’ll be in great shape for the Shamrock Run in March.
Is the rain motivating, in the sense of “I can’t wait to get out of this”? Maybe so. After I had finished my run, I still had to go do some shopping and maybe get a bite to eat, and I was less than motivated to go back out in it. I took a bus to one of my favorite restaurants, the Iron Horse, and ate, then took another bus trip, involving a transfer, to Fred Meyers in Oak Grove, then took another bus trip back to my neighborhood. I’d dressed for the weather, in camp pants, hat, and Columbia rain coat with hood, but even so, when I got back home, I was soaked through. Not a good feeling.
I still needed dinner, and did not have much food in the house, but I made do, because I was not going to go back out in the rain again that night.
And I didn’t. I’d had my fill.