Siiiinging in the rain...

Here it is Tuesday morning and it's blowing a gale out there. The traffic in to work was heavy but no worse than many mornings. I'm guessing there's no meet this afternoon, but it will probably be a while before I get the official word from the school.

It seems like a good day to run -- maybe not a good day to race, but a good day to run. There's just something about running in wildly inclement weather that feels satisfying, bracing, and good for one's confidence. It's also a good chance to enjoy a little solitude, away from the fair weather joggers, dog walkers, strollers, and other pedestrians that dot the landscape on milder days. Plus, whatever difficulties one feels running in weather like this are temporary and soon forgotten. The positive feelings of being resilient enough to get out there when no one else is out there last for a lot longer. And you know, And months from now when you are looking back at your training log, you don't want to see a zero staring at you from the day when there was a little rain and wind.

I remember running an XC race in a Nor'easter one year. The race was held in the Middlesex Fells in late October and was put on by a local running club with no sponsorship, no t-shirts, no prizes to speak of, and hardly any publicity. Much like today, New England was getting a couple of inches of rain and high winds from an off-shore storm. The race was on a Sunday, and the roads were empty as I drove to the Fells. When I got there, a couple of officials were standing around and you could tell they were wondering whether to cancel the race. It turned out that several parts of the course were underwater. In one spot, we had to run through a puddle that was about a foot deep in the middle. On another section of the trail, a small river had formed from the rainwater running down the hill. Jogging around before the race was no fun; by the time we were ready for the race, we were pretty much as wet as we were going to be. There were about 30 runners altogether, and in our numbers we found additional strength of will. Once the race got started it was fun. It was as though the pack of runners regressed to a more primitive state, all animal instincts and animal feelings as we ploshed about in the woods. I fell once on a grassy turn, but I was up again before I knew it and almost made me laugh.

On that day, a number of larger races around New England were cancelled. Our little race was not cancelled, and I think it's because those few of us who showed up felt a collective sense of adventure that overrode our more cautious side. Like everyone else, we started out hesitant and unsure of ourselves, but with every muddy ditch we navigated, with every stream we splashed through, we felt better and better about ourselves. There wasn't ANYTHING we couldn't handle.

If you never get out and run in a cold drenching rain like today, you miss something. Maybe it's something you don't care to experience, and I respect that. But I feel that from time to time, it's worth a little discomfort to let your wild animal side out of its cage and roam around for a bit. As the remnants of the hurricane pass through the area, if you venture outside and listen very carefully, you might just hear weird howls in the distance, barely distinguishable above the whipping of the wind. That's the sound of the really crazy runners singing in the rain.