april rain in 2013-2014

It's not April yet. That is irrelevant.

First, read this: The Blerch and magical running. Make sure you take note of the last page.

I found this yesterday while at work. I squeed a bit: Blerch book and MARATHON!

And I quote:

Every participant gets a “I Beat The Blerch in 2014” tech shirt and medal.
There will be large quantities of birthday cake at every aid station, in addition to Nutella and magical grape beverages.
There may or may not be actual Blerchs in fat-suits chasing you throughout the race.
We won't charge you to download your race photos after the event.
Ridiculously awesome goodie bag stuffed with stickers, snacks, and Blerch surprises.
A percentage of the proceeds go to the Washington Trails Association and the National Wildlife Federation

It's a 10K/half/marathon in September, in (the state of) Washington. That's only like 3000 miles away, but oh MAN did I want. I posted it on Facebook and my runner friends and I briefly discussed our blerch problems and my cousin's teenage kid desperately wanted to go as well. (Sadly, they sold out almost instantly.) We're all hoping that it becomes annual, if not national.

Today, as promised, was warm, overcast, and humid. When I dragged myself out of bed at 2:30, it was 68 degrees, breezy, mostly cloudy, and featuring 73% humidity. Perfect! I ate some cereal, toast, and water, pulled on my calf sleeve for the pesky shin splint, and ducked back upstairs to switch out my glasses for contacts, since the sun was breaking through.

I start by walking the first half mile or so to warm up. It didn't take nearly that long to see the last line of rain from the cold front, beautiful slate gray clouds piling up to the west. I had three thoughts: I should start running, like right now and the wind will be at my back on the way in! and I'm going to have an Oatmeal experience!

Not gonna lie, I was pretty excited. I run while wet and muddy and such at every race, never bring my phone, and my MP3 player is a tough cookie, so that prospect didn't bother me whatsoever. However, I did start running, and was pretty distracted doing math in my head, adding the song times that had already passed and subtracting from the current time since I had forgotten to mark the start. I took three short walk breaks and surprised myself; I climbed the big hill and was tiring quickly, but then the downhill part was like being on a conveyor belt. I happily trucked right along with my new playlist, reveling in the slowing increasing humidity. Warm, wet air is lungs' best friend.

The sprinkles started just as I started my way back. I tucked my MP3 player deep in my multi-layered pocket and concentrated on getting my breath back, prepping for the downhill, wind-at-back mile and a half back home. The sprinkles increased, into rain. I switched my MP3 player to my sports bra. The wind picked up, driving the rain into sheets and a proper downpour, and I launched into the rest of the run with the rain splattering off my arms and dripping off my eyelashes. I pushed my sunglasses to the top of my head, constantly corrected my wet earphones, and was honked at a lot because I had worn a white shirt. I splashed through puddles and gloried in a non-cotton shirt plastered against my back, light-weight running shoes that don't hold water, watching the rain all around me.

There were no demon bees, magical purple beverages, bamboo, or lightning, but as I crossed the streets and got my breath back one last time before the final slog up the hill to my building, it was still perfect and wonderful and I was smiling. Winding around to my building involves maybe a tenth of a mile of muddy, hilly trail, which involved a LOT of concentration, and when I collapsed against my front door and realized that the rain had tapered to a mist, and dug out my MP3 player, I had been gone for exactly 30 minutes (and some seconds). Also, I was soaked and dripping.

I took my shoes off in the bathroom and left the fan on, and dumped my clothes immediately into the washing machine. I sat on a blanket at my computer, hair dripping over my shoulder, and mapped the route. 3.1 miles (a hair under 5k), in 30 minutes. Consecutive, sustained, 9:50 miles. I shaved 10 minutes off that route.

Oh fuck yeah.

I didn't even know I could do a 9:50 mile, let alone THREE of them! Can I always run in the rain?!

I've since showered, washed my clothes, and crammed my trainers full of desiccant packets that I once begged off various shoe stores. I've eaten a banana and another two glasses of water and I'm getting pretty hungry (it's getting to dinner time), but that glorious exercise high and triumph has me floating.

Of course, when I saw my time, my instinct was to celebrate with a cheeseburger, but also, EAT THAT, BLERCH, I WON.

This of course means that I have no excuse (shy of slow courses) for a 45-minute OCR time on the 5ks I have left to do, and I'm really excited to keep pushing and make it to 10k level. If I can do a 10k in under an hour, I think I'll declare that a win--anything more, half marathons and such, are ridiculous time commitments that I don't really want to get into. (Also, injury potential skyrockets once you hit the 40 miles/week threshold.)

But yes. YAY.

I WON.