Running in the Rain…
Little known secret… I have always loved the rain. And to be honest not a little rather an awful lot. I recall as boy in New York I would go down to our basement garage and watch the rain like it was a movie. I would bring a snack, (I mean let’s be serious what’s a movie without a snack?!?!) and sit on the stack of fifty pound concrete bags my father had piled in there, why he had them I have no idea I don’t think he every mixed concrete. Anyway, I had my snack and this blanket that was black and tan with a golden yellow border and printed with big cats, you know lions, tigers, perhaps panthers or pumas or catamounts or cougars or mountain lions or any of the other names for the same big cat that used to range all of the Americas.
Anyway this is not an essay about the plight of predators in the Western hemisphere in a postmodern age, it is about loving the rain and all that it has to offer. And to me it offered freedom or newness or something that felt like those things to a boy of that age that lacked the experience and poetry to express it. Needless to say as a boy of six or seven and as one of four or five kids, depending on the actual age (up until nine it was four, that’s when Heather showed up on the day I became a runner. But that my friends is another story… Try to FOCUS! We are talking about the rain.) I was NOT allowed to go out and play in the rain. I was not allowed out in the rain because God forbid one of us were to get sick then we would all be sick. I mean I get it from my mom’s perspective, let one out in it and they’ll all want to go out in it and that means four sets of muddy footprints, four baths, four more outfits to wash… and basically a whole lot of work for which no one probably ever said “thank you” (Thank you- Mom). Regardless of her actual reasons I was always a spectator to the splendor on nature’s stage but longed to play a part in of all the tormented skies and windblown bliss that I saw out that window.
But it was a non-starter and eventually I just stopped asking… that is until I started running. An amazing thing happened when my mom started carting me all over the place to run road races on Saturdays and Sundays in the Westchester/Putnam region of New York (Thanks again for believing in this whole thing before I did Mom)… They started the races no matter what, they were the postal carrier’s of sport… I mean I got to run in every type of weather I ever wanted or didn’t want. I can recall a race in Montrose that was the hilliest, coldest, sleet storm I had ever experienced (worst still I was not top male 14 and under which meant I lost). But for all of the discomforts and complaints, for all of that… I was allowed outside in the rain!! Outside in the rain without parental supervision for the better part of an hour… and it was EFFING AWESOME!!!
I was hooked; running in the rain became my thing and my mom bought into it… I could go out and play in the … I mean “go out and RUN” I meant to type ‘run’, I could go out and run in the rain whenever I wanted to and I always wanted to. I was a force on rainy days in cross country, the milers got slowed down in the mud and it evened the playing field. On through college I was just better in the rain, more connected to the things that made me feel fast confident, just more me. I guess at that early age more “who I would become” than me, but I loved it… I mean I was freakin Gene Kelley when I ran in the rain… I could hear the words -see the puddles -feel the splashing… heck I was the crazy guy on the lamppost I was happy again, I was laughing again, I was singin' and runnin' in the rain... … (and do not make me type the dooby do dooby bit)
It was really me at my best, it was me happy.
I am the one and only person that loves autumn and winter in Seattle. And I really do… in the summer I miss the rain, I can say without hesitation or a hint of irony I moved to the Pacific Northwest for the rain. And yes I know my friend Jesse is swearing at me for even thinking it- and I am sorry for typing it… worse still, for the love of Pete… I miss it. I miss it as much as I miss my house, my runs at Greenlake or Discovery Park, and only slightly less than I miss freshly made burgers at Burgermaster. (Bless those people, when you can call and order two cheeseburgers-easy onions, fries, and a super Coke-no ice and be asked “Craig are you going to bebringing Kenya with you?” That’s is service and all in just seven minutes.) But I think you get my drift.
I know you’re saying “What about being soaked?” and I say as a professional that creates running gear we have beaten the rain, get a decent running jacket, our team makes a bunch of them and the new ones that will hit in the next few months will blow your mind.. and keep you dry. So quit whining about it and buy a baseball hat and second pair of shoes so one is always dry.
Rambling at this point… but I guess that’s because I’m in a good mood, I’m feeling more like me… I guess it’s because I ran ten miles on the Tiergarten trails this morning with Mac, Curious, and Andy… I guess it’s because it was ten miles of laughing, ten miles of friends…
…it was ten miles in the rain.
