“Wow, I really regret that workout.”
– No one, ever
The thing about being a committed runner is that you’re pretty much going to run no matter what the weather. Some people just head on down to their local gym and hop onto a treadmill to log their miles on days when the weather presents less than stellar conditions; me, I loathe the treadmill and will avoid it at all costs – which means I’m going to be outside.
Whistler had a recent visit from the Pineapple Express. Before that we enjoyed a much needed dump of nearly 100cm of snow on the mountains, and a generous amount here in the valley, but most of that turned to slush with the Pineapple Express.
From Wikipedia: Pineapple Express is a non-technical term for a meteorological phenomenon characterized by a strong and persistent flow of atmospheric moisture and associated with heavy precipitation from the waters adjacent to the Hawaiian Islands and extending to any location along the Pacific coast of North America.
In short, it poured rain like a mofo for two days.
Of course, I had 9 miles on the agenda that Saturday morning. Waking up to the sound of rain, I hit snooze and then decided to just take my time getting going. I did breakfast with the family, surfed the internet for a bit, and then started doing laundry, cleaning, etc. If I procrastinate long enough I eventually talk myself into bagging my run. By 10am I had pretty much decided I wasn’t going out.
And then I had a moment of “get over it”. I could do an hour. I could run for an hour and be happy with that.
The good news is, once I was out the door and going I completed my 9 miles. No, not in an hour (I wish). The bad news is, I ran every step in the pouring rain. Really the worst of it was just getting myself to accept that I was going to get wet.
I had a great run. My pace was strong and I felt really good the whole time I was out there. Being wet wasn’t even something I noticed until I was within a mile of returning home. I started to notice my squishy shoes and that my gloves weren’t exactly warming my hands any longer. I was almost home, though, and knew that soon I’d be out of those clothes and sitting in front of a nice, cozy fire.
I guess the message here is, learn to run in anything. You never know what conditions are going to be on race day, and luckily with the Whistler Half Marathon we’ve had gorgeous weather two years in a row, but you save yourself a lot of grief on a rainy race day if you’ve experienced the odd cold and wet run along the way.
Oh, and as Murphy’s Law would have it on Sunday we woke up to sunshine and clear skies. Go figure.