Friday, April 13, 2012

Rain Rave

It is spring. How do I know? California doesn't offer the obvious signs (no melting of snow, no sudden emergence of college kids laying out on the lawns of their University), but I have learned to notice the subtle changes. Trillium. Purple iris. More songbirds.
Trillium, April 2012

Also, there is the Redwood Sunshine. 
Redwood Sunshine, April 2012
I can never help but stop in my tracks when the trees split the rays of the sun. If I was a serious runner, I would ignore all such distractions and never break my pace. On this particular day though, I was on my first run for over a week (thanks to a howling hamstring) and it had been many moons since I had run in my woods. I have been so focused on the long runs in preparation for May's marathon. I had forgotten how key the woods are to my well being. And on this particular day the woods were on fire, figuratively, thank God, and at one point I ran in to the very center of one of those sunray circles and it took my breath away. Or maybe it was just not running for a week. Either way: humbling.
On Fire, April 2012
But my moment of clarity came yesterday, 95 minutes into a run in the rain. The hail came tumbling down and I had to put my head down and drive into the wind and weather like a guy with a football hugged to his chest pushing through all those great big defenders. The odd thing is all throughout this soggy run, no one looked at me as if I was doing anything unusual. Several bikers passed me, many cars and walkers too. This is the Pacific northwest: we love rain. And like a dedicated smoker in Minnesota, where 60 below with windchill won't stop you from huddling outside your office building in your suit to get a smoke on your break, a bucketload of rain and hail shall not deter the runner within. There were a couple of llamas on my route who looked at me like I was crazy. But they tend to do that no matter what the weather.

I love the deep green of this season.
I love the way everything is in bloom, from Azaleas to Rhododendrons, from Trillium to Breath of Heaven. 
I love the way the Eucalyptus smells during and after a rain.
I am in great shape for a 20 mile run, but that last 6.2 will most certainly kill me, or at least cause injury both psychological and physical.
So, what the heck, I will do the HALF marathon in May. 

Once I realized that I felt light. Hail yes.

1 comment:

  1. Spectacular spring signs. In spite of the mild winter, spring hasn't arrived in Wisconsin; I have yet to be attacked by red winged blackbirds while riding. Only then will it be official.