Did I mention it was raining?

There were a lot of reasons why I didn’t want to do this run. 

We hadn’t run for a while, and by the time we found out about the race we only had three weeks to train.   January nights were really cold this year, and we had a lot going on, physically and emotionally.    There were many nights I’d rather be doing anything other than be out in the cold, every breath visible to the naked eye.   

Three days before race day I caught a cold, the kind that keeps you up all night coughing and spitting up gunk, but I forced myself to go out and run a full three miles, just to make sure my body was ready for the task.    Several times I was ready to throw in the towel and just go home, but I pushed through.   I was surprised at the end when I could actually breath better then before I started.  

Two days before the race, my voice was gone and the weather forecast predicted rain for Saturday morning.   What had I gotten myself into?   I’ve never run in the rain before, and the prospect sounded miserable.   I mean, who wants to stand in wet socks for a minute, let alone running in them for a half-hour?

Saturday morning came, as did the pouring rain.    Still, I got in the car at 6 am and drove downtown with my running shoes on.   I was on an adventure, doing something I thought I’d never do.  There was a moment before the race when I looked up at the dark clouds peeking between tall buildings, and thought there was no place I’d rather be.   The anticipation of the coming race,  the cold splash of rain on my cheeks, and adrenaline charging through the crowd worked together to make me feel truly alive.  

I’d like to say the running was a breeze, worth every step, and in the end I beat my personal record.   Didn’t happen.   The race was tough.   My jacket soaked through, and it felt like I was carrying an extra ten pounds on my shoulders.    I inadvertently stepped in a few puddles, so water was sloshing between my toes and each step was an effort.    I ran the entire race at a decent time (for me), but it took everything within me to keep going that last half-mile.

Why?   Why run in the pouring rain, sick as a dog?    There really is something in pushing yourself to do the impossible.    Last year I couldn’t run around the block.   I couldn’t run to the end of the street without hyperventilating.     It took pushing, going out of my comfort zone a little bit at a time, but now I’ve run several 5ks at times better then I ran in high school.    That feels good!   I’m not a super-athlete, but I don’t sell myself short anymore.    

Part of losing weight is self-discipline, saying no when you want to say yes, or visa-versa.   Saying no to the donut, yes to the veggies.   Foregoing the snooze button in exchange for an invigorating workout.    Strange as it sounds, denying yourself comfort becomes empowering.  You realize that you’re stronger then ever before, and find that you’re doing things you never imagined possible.   The food is not in control.  Your body is not in control.   You are the one that makes the decisions.   

I ran the race because I knew I could, and I decided I would, no matter what.   And some days, that is all it takes.