Ridin' the Storm Out

Today’s run is 15 miles, at an 8:20 pace. Gil is coming out again, but we are on standby because there have been torrential downpours overnight and more are predicted, with thunderstorms today. I am actually wondering if part of the trail might be underwater. We set the clocks ahead for Daylight Savings Time last night, so we are getting started at 8 am. When we start the sky is cloudy as far as we can see, but they are not dark clouds, and the rain stopped about 30 minutes ago. So, we take off, and decide we will run until the lightning gets too close. We run the same route we did last week, and sure enough, when we get to a footbridge over a creek in the woods, the trail is flooded from the overflow. The bridge is safe, but the creek is more like a river now, and is flowing super –fast and high. Luckily, the trail winds up hill from here, so we leave the low-lying water behind, but our legs pay the price. We are about five miles into our run, when it starts to rain. We can either turn around and run the hills in reverse for a 13 mile loop, or take to a straight route on the streets for just over 11 miles. As the thunder and lightning gets closer, we opt for the shorter route. Out of the shelter of the trees, the cold driving rain feels more like sleet or hail. When we run by a Walgreens, I suggest waiting out the heaviest rain under the drive-through. In retrospect, inside the store would have been the place to go. The problem in running in cold rain is that if you stop, your body stops producing the extra heat to counteract the cold rain. It’s only about 42 degrees, and its windy, so its almost like swimming in water that cold, because we are immersed. There’s a psychological boost when we get back to the trail, and have a straight 4 mile path to our cars. The water is collecting inside the sleeves of my jacket, sealed in by the elastic wristbands. The water running down my back has also found a spot to pool in the crotch of my running tights and shorts. Good thing my wife is out of town, because lower temperature raises sperm count, and we’re not looking for any little surprises 9 months from now.
Gil says his ankle is hurting – it is something that has been bugging him for a while, and changing his shoes has not helped. He decides that he will cut it short at 11.25 miles. I brought a change of clothes for after the run in the van, including dry shoes and socks. By the time we get back, there is only an intermittent drizzle, but the sky is still a heavy gray. Gil stretches, and gets in his car to leave. I’ve got the seats folded down in the back of our Toyota Sienna, so there is plenty of room for me to get out of the wind and strip of the top half of my sopping wet running clothes. I put on a dry t-shirt, a zip-up warmup jacket, and a dry hat. I put on the dry socks and shoes. I find one cotton glove, and a earwarmer band to wrap around the other hand. I guzzle some water and the last of my Power-Gels, and I ditch my water belt, but I keep the GPS on my wrist, and put my phone in my jacket pocket, I keep heading east for some new scenery. Shedding the pounds of water from my clothes, and getting the short break gives me some energy. Plus, the relief of getting through the storm safely is psychological boost. I run about 1 mile and ¾ and turn around. I am able to estimate the distance perfectly to end up with 15 miles. I open up the back of the van. Then, it starts to rain, I climb in the back, and pull the tailgate closed behind me. The van is tall enough for me to use a bungee cord and lay on my back and do a hamstring stretch. The sole of my foot might just touch the ceiling if I was good at straightening my leg fully. When I get home, I take a bag with my fist change of clothes. I stand on the scale with them and without them and see that they weigh 5 pounds.