Running in The Rain. Keeping to Intentions Brings Unexpected Reward.
The pleased waterfowl
Taking float in the car park
And I, I go run.
I call it, Soaked to The Bone. It’s a haiku I wrote as I ran the other day, a practice I have on many runs. Sometimes I worry about the capacity of my creative scope. No offense to the haiku poet, but that’s all I can manage? Realistically, where would I otherwise write it all down considering I try to leave my phone behind? Sometimes I try runner’s math: distance and pace and time, but that’s honestly even more disastrous.
Anyway, considering the other obstacles I have faced in my run streak, the rain wasn’t all that bad. But, it was bad. The dreary weather had kept us all in bed a bit longer and general Monday morale was low, except by the fireplace where the cats warmed their fur, inviting me to join them with more coffee. I could get back to my warm robe and cozy slippers after an efficient school drop off. My weather app indicated sunny days the rest of the week, and any other runner would have confidently seized the day tomorrow.
Nonetheless, I chose technical clothes, gloves, and trail running shoes for the schlep to school. I ushered the boys into my car and slowly progressed through rainy day traffic before driving my usual way to the parking lot at my favorite “get ‘er gone” running spot. Although it’s a default zone for my lazy morning mind, it’s actually a beautiful park that provides a chance to hit paved or dirt trails around a serene little lake where people walk their dogs with ceramic coffee mugs, and the birdwatchers compare cameras and binoculars. I often see a few friends, and I know exactly how long each route will contribute to my weekly mileage. But on this day, there were no friends, and no friendly faces, just a few begrudging dog walkers probably contemplating what to do about the wet fur about to embellish their cars. By their sullen responses to my cheerful greetings, they also seemed to be stewing about how I was foolish for being there without good reason. I told myself to just hang in and log this run the way I intended to, and according to my training schedule.
Along one stretch I was forced to a halt where the trail was blocked by flooding. Even the knee high rain boots I’d wear later for my regular activities would not have allowed my passage. The lake that overflowed into the parking lot had utterly consumed that of the boat launch. The ornery swans, eager to protect their grand new territory, were resplendent in tufts of ruffled feathers and angry but majestic hissing. One hearty birdwatcher stood at waters edge with her camera, whispering encouragement for the biggest male to glide into her focal point. Together we pondered potential avenues for portage, but considering the slippery mud up the hills, and the miles already accomplished, I decided that I was satisfied with the day’s effort. My spirits were lifted from the interaction with a friendly likeminded diehard, the unpredictable natural forces within this seemingly benign city park, and the handsome swans. I turned back from whence I came, content that what I knew would be exactly 4.78 miles was in good standing for the day’s planned 5 mile run.
Despite the distraction at the boat launch, I was cold and falling again into misery shortly after turning around. I had been instantly soaked in the driving rain when I left my car and took to the trail, and now I felt that I was starting to pay the price. A chill, an errant slip, a blister? Please don’t let me get a blister in this water-logged shoe. I begged the heavens. Within a few minutes, as if some essential element from my plea was heard, a new tune flooded my headphones. It was a song by Owl City that reminds me of a stretch along Chapman Peak Drive near Cape Town, South Africa. The road travels along a cliff, flanked by rock walls and gazing out over Hout Bay in the South Atlantic Ocean. We were visiting my husband’s family and driving back during sunset from one of our daily adventures. Simultaneously my husband, 2 young boys, and I burst out singing along to Fireflies, a perfect soundtrack for our beautiful and uncharted territory. The car took the curves of the road smoothly as we laughed and pressed rewind again and again. It was a moment we shared together, that almost 5 years later we still reminisce about with joy, wonder, and appreciation for all meaningful family times shared. A smile came across my dripping face and I gazed up to contemplate the mise en scène. With each tack in the trail, the light would bend through the trees in a new and inviting way. The faint rays of light urged me forward and onward, up each hill, and through each puddle. Brand new hues of green and yellow caught my eye in the mosses and lichens. Glimmering magic fairies danced in the puddles as my feet broke surface tension. The beauty I’ve seen countless times before was fresh, and also transcendent, in this familiar place, on what otherwise would have been such an easy day to take off.
Sometimes it’s okay, and even encouraged, to take to some much needed rest. But what I have also learned is that a day off would not have been best served through a sojourn in front of the fire with the cats. While I may want or need to take a day off from what I plan to do, it’s never a sound decision to take a day off entirely from the intention of that missed activity. All manners of personal goals are best realized through the formation of habit, adherence to whatever steps carry success, and good positioning upon our intentions. Had I taken to the chaise lounge, just because of the miserable weather, I would not have even been positioning myself toward my goals. After a good night’s sleep and extra time in bed from the morning procrastination, had my body truly needed a break from a 5 mile run, there were still better options. Within my intentions, I could have had a short warm up jog followed by self massage and stretching, instead of compete inactivity. But the truth was apparent in my rote pattern of driving that took me into the park. The good news is, any dedication to tangible and task dependent goals can unexpectedly lead to intangible rewards as well. To prove it, I have a perfectly lit tableaux from the trail, bright and colorful despite the rain, now forever etched in my mind.
