i love the weather.
it seems like one day we'll all be griping (what a great word) about how abnormally hot it is (funny how every year we seem to think the temps are "above average" all summer...), and like an answered prayer, rain comes to cool things down.
then, naturally, we all start griping about the rain.
i'll admit, i'm right there in the thick of it. when a storm blew through yesterday, i joined the chorus of "dad gummit!" (another great word), "it's gonna rain again..."
the really funny part is that, when i really sit down to examine it, i'd have it no other way. i love the "crappy" running days, the days not fit for man nor beast, the days when (while still in work clothes) i can't fathom being outside for more than a few minutes at a time. these are the days when i thrive.
100+ degrees with 115% humidity, you can bet the farm that i'll be out there logging the miles. 12 degrees with a wind chill of zero (hey.. that's cold down here), i'll come in with snot-sicles proudly affixed. hurricane winds (katrina was still a cat. 1 hurricane over starkville...), i'll ill-advisedly set forth to do battle with the elements.
i have no explanation for this seemingly deleterious compulsion to feed the addiction in the worst of conditions; at first i thought it was for the bragging rights, but then I realized that i've never told people about most of the weird-weather-runs.
i suspect, however, that quite a few of us in this somewhat eccentric pastime have the need to test things out. we run far. very far. then we run fast. then we come up with races like barkley, badwater, or arrowhead, and even though we run them, griping the whole way and cussing the next hill, i bet that we'd all be really pissed off if it got any easier.
we all have the disease; we all want the next challenge; we all want to weather the weather.
just because we can. | 