I know I must look crazy to my neighbors, especially with a lot of them still working from home. There they are, in their cozy home offices in front of their monitors, gazing out of rain splattered window panes.
I'm an odd streaking site, in my grey running rain jacket that goes about to my knees with my hood pulled up snug against my favorite running hat. All you see are two little legs attached to neon shoes and maybe a little face peeping out. And it doesn't help that I'm not very tall...5' 3" on a good day.
"Who is that child running around in a thunderstorm?"
Yup. That's a doctor. Just running around in the rain, heading into the woods, where the trails are quickly becoming mud puddles.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
There's something about daring to be different, maybe even a little crazy. And then preparing for it like an adventure. And the woods are full of them. From toads that hop out onto the trails, to the geese honking at trespassers, to the stray turkey or deer crossing the path. The woody trails are alive during the rain.
My favorite part is probably the sound track. The steady pitter patter of the rain hitting the leaves and trunks of the trees, compounded by the increased rushing of the streams into the ponds and lakes. I accompany the symphony, but not very beautifully-all I have to add is a splish of my increasingly-water-logged shoes which is slowly but surely becoming "squish" rather than "splash". Regardless of my unstealthily lumbering around, everything is so still and quiet but still very much alive.
It's almost meditative, from the sound of the rain to the extra vibrancy of forest colors from the wetness. The trail becomes more technical, even a little dangerous. But that's alright. I have the opportunity to give my all-to give my full attention to the task at hand of navigating the puddles, roots, rocks, trying to pick my way through the trail and onto the little foot bridges. I can stop and turn around once I lose my way into a new lake emerging onto what was a trail...and it's ok. Pace doesn't matter today. The time I spend on my feet and the technique I'm learning and the quick neuromuscular reflexes I'm honing are the objectives and goals of the rainy runs. I'm learning to navigate obstacles, respond quickly to a changing environment, and move differently than I normally would on a road run.
What an adventure!
When I'm thoroughly soaked and my feet are tired and my toes are turning prune-y, I know it's time to go back. So I head out of the woods, saying my thank you's and living in gratitude for the moments of peace, calm, and clarity I just experienced. I take those with me and save them in a special place in my memories. I pull those out whenever I think something isn't possible or I'm scared to be different or I don't dare to dream bigger...
Why's become why not's and "maybe normal is underrated" because "normal" people don't get excited to go running into the woods during a rain storm.
So why start being normal now?
So I turn up my collar, forge a new path, and ford a new stream.
Because I won't melt in the rain.
Tell me fit fam, do you have the same love for running in the rain? Or am I just crazy? You can tell me-I can handle it! ;) Tell me your adventures below!
Run Strong fit fam, and remember...you won't melt in the rain.
Marie Whitt, PT, DPT //@dr.whitt.fit
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