Some people think are runners are crazy to begin with. I saw a T-shirt at last weekend’s race that said, REAL ATHLETES RUN. THE REST PLAY GAMES.
But how crazy do you have to be to run in the rain?
Apparently I am all over that.
This past weekend was rainy, but fortunately fairly warm, at least for March in central Pennsylvania. And in my defense, it was not pouring when I actually started out. Barely drizzling.
But I was completely soaked by the end of a six-mile run. The picture doesn’t do the weather justice. You can’t see the water dripping from my visor or hear the squishing of my shoes.
Weather has rarely been a factor in “whether” to run or not. I have run in below zero wind chills. I have run in 110 degree heat in Phoenix. Rain is actually fun to run in if it is not a monsoon and the temperature is above 60. Rain and forty degrees is just miserable. I like running in a light snowfall–it’s like running in hyperspace with the little white flakes whizzing by, or like running in a snow globe. The snow dampens noise and it’s almost magical. I have run in snow and ice. I have also fallen on ice. The weather won that round.
But this weekend, I won the wet T-shirt contest. Of course, I was the only one out there, but who’s counting?