Running in the rain

Yesterday morning when my alarm went off at 5:30, I could hear a light patter of rain. Nearly three hours later, by the time I was ready to take Holly out to the bus and then start my run, it was a steady downpour.

As I used to tell Tim when he ran with me, running in the rain is tough only for the first five minutes. After that, you’re as wet as you’re going to get; it’s not going to become any worse. You just have to steel yourself for those first five minutes.

So yesterday, that’s what I did: steeled myself for the first five minutes of steady rain. And I discovered once again what I always discover when I urge myself out to run in a rainfall: it’s not that bad. The rain cools your skin as you run, and there’s no sun glare to contend with in your eyes. If you get hot, you can sluice rainwater off a low-hanging branch and pat it on your forehead and cheeks. Dodging puddles gives you practice at agility. In my case, where the dog likes to stop every twenty seconds or so to shake off the water, it gives me practice in quick stops as well; if I don’t put the brakes on myself and run in place while she shakes to her satisfaction, I trip over her.

The best part of running in the rain is finishing the run: entering a warm, dry house, knowing you didn’t let the rain put you off. You feel chilled in damp clothes, but warm inside, knowing you met the weather head-on and fit in a good workout.

True, that’s a little like the joke about “Why are you hitting yourself?” “Because it feels so good when I stop,” which my 12-year-old is at just the right age to find hilarious. Why run in the rain? Because it feels so good when you’re done. But in all honesty, that’s part of the appeal of running whether it’s raining or not: the sense of satisfaction and of conquering that comes when the run is finished. Whether or not it’s raining, running means slaying a certain kind of dragon every time you go out: the dragon of inertia. Running may be natural, but staying put is natural too, and preserving energy even more so. To head out on a run at any time is to say that you are willing yourself to overcome the urge to stay at rest. To head out on a run in the rain is to overcome a natural aversion to discomfort, wetness, chill.

Trivial as those dragons may be, it feels good to stare them down, overcome them, leave them in your wake. There are a lot of inner struggles I can’t conquer as easily as the wish to stay indoors when it’s running. Pushing myself out the door for a couple of miles in the rain makes me feel like I’ve overcome one tiny hurdle in my day. And having done that, maybe I can take on some bigger hurdles before the day, or the rain, ends.