Firstly, HI again -- been quiet for a few weeks as Mr. Every-Body-Run, Tiny Overlord and I were joining the family for a big ol' beach house vacation on the Jersey Shore with all the cousins for a week (and then I had a week of trying to finish up my last summer teaching, including late grading that I might have been ignoring for said beach).
But now that I am back on my usual route -- at least until the next trip in this travel-heavy summer -- I have been thinking about one of my favorite runs during the trip: the one we took on the worst weather day. With the many oh-so-apparent effects of human-induced climate change ravaging typical summer fun this year, like how 2023 is ready to reach the hottest summer on record, or the smokey skies from forest fires soon to be the summer norm which nixed today's planned stroller run for me and Tiny Overlord, we felt like we'd hit the vacation skies jackpot to get three days in a row of perfectly sunny-not-to-hot beach weather followed by an overcast but perfect for toddler sand-fun fourth day.
Then came day 5, with rain and winds. Not "oh, that's refreshing" breezes or drizzles either, but some full-on storminess that left the beach which had seemed so calm the day before looking like a moonscape from some sci-fi film
Nope, not the surface of the moon in some lunar storm, but close.
While we were SO lucky that grandma had found us a house with plenty of space to spread out for the four small humans, including Tiny Overlord, to play during the not-so-nice days, even the best digs will start to feel like they're closing in on you after being cooped up too long with four kiddos under 5. So, once Tiny Overlord went down for her nap, Mr. EBR and I decided plop the monitor down with a helpful aunt so we could head out for a beach walk.
We had both been looking forward to trying some beach running during the week, after realizing that the repetitiveness of trying to run in the neighborhood was not our jam -- with so many big vacation homes, there was little shade and it was so flat we missed the hills we usually whine about at home! We figured that the weather, though, would keep us to just a walk. And it did -- at first. As we walked with the wind at our backs, we felt as if we were being pushed forward.
Now, Mr. EBR is also Mr. Competitive, so even though neither of us was even fully dressed in our usual running gear, I knew if I suggested we try a bit of speed, he'd jump right in. Unideal weather or not, I figured, we only got one week at the beach and just a few hours solo time each day, so why not?
Of course, it felt awesome at first with the wind behind us -- swinging our arms through the rain and letting it push us made us both feel as hardcore as a honeybadger. The sea was rushing in our ears, calling us along.
Then we turned.
Against the wind.
Seeger mentioned "Moving eight miles a minute for months at a time". We were moving more like 15 minutes a mile for 30 seconds at a time.
I have never played football, but I imagine when you're running into an opponent, it must have felt something like this wind. I felt like my legs were moving crazy fast, but then I also felt like I was not actually GOING anywhere.
To be fair, we only lasted a few minutes (because I called it, as I know that Mr. EBR would otherwise keep us there all day), but even as I panted and huffed, I was also a bit exhilarated. Sure, it was short, but it felt strong. It felt daring. It felt like even the buff young lifeguards were impressed (likely not, but you know, a middle aged mom can dream). I even whipped my ponytail out and just let the wind take it.
"Well I'm older now and still runnin'
Against the wind "
I could end here with one of those nice insipirational quotes that you might find on a wooden sign next to "Live-Laugh-Love" or "Wine O'Clock" at Home Goods. You know "life is not about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about dancing in the rain" and all that. And it's not that I'm not all about that mindset, it's just, well, a bit too aspiratioonal most days. Honestly, most of the time I DO want the storm to go past, and I want my 70-degree-partly-cloudly-low-humidity-running-perfection weather.
But I also want my little slice of runner's high, and given my limited time between caretaking and working and whatever else ridiculousness is keeping me off the road, and that means, sometimes, to paraphrase a former colleague of mine, "you just need to put on your big girl panties and go" -- even in crap weather.
The key, I think, is two things: embracing the suck and being all Swedish about what waits you outside: i.e. "there is no bad weather, only bad clothes."
Embrace the suck, for me, meas having those expectations set reasonably. I knew I wasn't going to knock out a 5K, or even a 3K, in wind ready to knock me down. Once I had it in my mind that I was just out to get my heart rate up and the happy little runners boost, the fact that we only clocked a mile did not matter. It was just fun to say "hey, we did it" and to quite literally, let our hair down.
And my Swedish-inspired gear grab was to go for my real waterproof jacket -- a tough LL Bean find and very smart ask for my birthday last year when I realized Tiny Overlord definitely woudl be at home in the Scandinavian countries, insisiting as she does on going to the park even in downpours. There are lots of tips out there in the runner Interwebs, from Runner's World's suggestions on racing in rain to REI's suggestion for getting out in the cold to this oldie-but-awesome set of hot weather running ideas from the amazing Mirna Valerio.
While I wish you your own version of running perfection, what are your faves for getting out there when the weather falls short of it?