I don’t know if this is entirely normal or not, but whenever it rains out, I have the urge to run.
I wasn’t always like this, you know. And back when my knees were in 100% cooperation with my training goals, I would oftentimes save the rainy days as my excuse to rest and take the day off. However, now that biking and walking have become my mainstays in the exercise department, the rainy days have become saved for my running days.
This morning as I laced up my sneakers, I felt nothing but adrenaline and a bit of anxiety (along with a few butterflies in the stomach.) Pre-race nerves, they call it. Only I wasn’t racing. It was just me, the rain, a pair of slightly worn-out sneakers, and my thoughts for company. No fans, no fellow runners, no finish line. Yet—still—I felt as if I were preparing for something big. As if all my training, biking, and walking was coming down to this single run.
Trotting through the first mile, there was nothing but the sound of my sneakers hitting the pavement. By the end of mile 2, I began to catch more sounds and smells. Coffee brewing. People chatting. An older man standing on his deck while taking in the fresh new morning.
There’s something about a run in the morning rain. Something mysterious. Something beautiful. Fresh and new. It’s why, no matter how many injuries I face or how busy life gets, I will always—always, always—be a runner.