Finding Friends in the Rain
In the Long Run
I plummeted down an anxiety rabbit hole on the weekend. So much tearing through my mind. ‘Too much social‘ yet not the restorative, IRL kind. A screen lights my life rather than a friend’s presence and smile.
Get out for your run, Linda.
Some fierce rain and wind were expected over the weekend. I’m in the final weeks of training for a local 15k race, the Around the Bay Road Race (ATB). I had training runs to do on both days. My long run on Sunday would be 14.5km — essentially, the race distance. My Saturday run was supposed to be a leisurely 8k. I wasn’t sure I could do both.
14.5km felt like a huge distance.
Was I ready?
Where would I run?
Had I done enough hill training for the hilly race course?
No, I hadn’t really done enough hill training. But hey, the snow had barely melted! Mere weeks ago, I was doing training runs on icy paths or in deep snow!
I decided to go for it and do my long run on a section of the race course. It was familiar and would give me a good sense of my readiness. Hopefully, I could get it done before the worst of the rain began. I looked at the radar. Heavy showers would start in 40 minutes, so I would be caught in it for 2+ hours.
No way around it. Only through.
I got to the starting point. The parking lot was surprisingly busy though there weren’t many people around. I hit the public toilet for one last pee before I set off. The sky was getting moodier. I left my rain jacket behind. The temperature was unseasonably warm. A jacket was only going to make me sweat more. I was gonna be soaked, no matter what.
A pair of runners loped by, as I set off. I waved. One gave me a peace sign.
I believe in acknowledging others with at minimum smile or a nod, whether walking, biking or running.
As I jogged onto North Shore Boulevard, a traditional part of the ATB course, I saw a few more runners approaching me, while others passed me from behind. More and more groups, onesies and twosies, ran past. I realized that many others had the same plan — to train on the course, despite the rain. We exchanged “Good mornings,” smiles, waves, thumbs up and “Good job, you got this” — they lifted my spirits.
The skies had opened up. It was a light patter at first, followed by the “moderate downfall” that was promised. As the rain beaded and dripped from the brim of my cap, I didn’t feel alone. I didn’t feel hard done by. This was part of training. Part of training for whatever Mother Nature would throw at us on race day.
As I turned at the halfway point of my route. I cheered others on. I cheered on those I met climbing the long, tough hill up the escarpment from the lake. I was on the downward slope this time. I repaid the support I felt when I was struggling up that steep incline.
My brother, the marathon runner, often talks about ‘my people’ when walking into a race expo. You see people that look like runners. It might be the shoes, muscular legs, the flush cheeks or lithe bodies — though the running community comes in many shapes, speeds and sizes. As I ran along the hilly route, I recognized that these were ‘my people.’ Most were much faster than me, but I was out there, running with them. They acknowledged me as one of the community. I felt that.
Eliud Kipchoge, one of the G.O.A.T.s of running, encourages people to find a group to run with. I haven’t found that yet. I train by myself. I am a slow runner and find it discouraging to try to run with a group when I am so far behind everyone. To the point that I’d gotten lost when I fell off the back of the pack and I could no longer see the group. I didn’t know the route we were following and had to find my way back to the meet-up point — before we all carried a GPS in our pockets. No point in adding that sense of failure and fear when running was hard enough.
Running in a race gives me a boost of community. Everyone pursues their goals individually, yet together. Some of us want to run fast or faster; some want to finish — a major accomplishment, whatever the distance.
I’d surprised myself.
When I got back to my car, I felt strong. I felt ready. I ran faster than I had expected. Maybe that was a mistake, but I wanted to prepare myself mentally for it; to prove that I can do it. Now I have the evidence. The receipts.
I know I will be near the back of the pack. I hope to run a bit faster than I did last year. The training was challenging through the winter, but it will be less of a factor on race day. I feel lighter and able to run more freely. Will the next week or so of training make enough of a difference?
I am grateful for those who ran ‘with’ me through the rain today. I am inspired by their determination and grateful for their smiles and words of encouragement.
As I said above… I believe in acknowledging others with a smile or a nod…
We never know what is happening with someone else. How significant this run or walk might be for them. It could have been incredibly hard to get out for this bit of activity. It could be an important milestone, a recovery, a first or last on a long journey.
A smile or nod, a word of encouragement, or acknowledgment, can mean the world. It can push us a little further. I suppose this is true in any context.
I hope I can be that little boost when someone needs it.
You got this. I believe in you.
For the first time, and as a result of this post, I’m beginning to see the attraction to running. Thanks Linda.
I enjoyed reading this post, Linda McLaughlin. Tonight I heard your commitment and enthusiasm for running clearer than I can remember! “Running in the rain! You’ve got to be joking,” I thought to myself. Silly thinking since this is your decision. Your race. So, I wish a good result for you, Linda. And who knows, a personal best for the distance!