Another running reality check

Yesterday I ran 11k. And what experience it was.

If you live in Ottawa, you'll likely remember yesterday as a pretty miserable day with rain and cool temperatures. The night before, I firmed up running plans with my friend and coach, C. We decided to meet at our usual running spot and make a judgement call if the rain was too bad to run in.

Looking out my kitchen window yesterday morning, all I saw was rain. Did I really want to run in rain? Did I even want to run at all? (Answer to both questions was an empathic no). I called C, got her voicemail and left the following message:

Hey, it's me. I notice it is raining outside. Is it too heavy to run in? I know you said you are getting over being sick and I wouldn't want to get sick again or God forbid, develop pneumonia. Let me know if you still want to run. I'll be here for the next 30 minutes before I head out to our meeting spot.

Thirty minutes passed and no phone call. Looking out the kitchen window again, I noticed the rain had picked up. Damn. I do not want to run in this crap, I thought to myself before picking up the phone and making one quick phone call to C. Again, my call went to voicemail where I left the following impatient and crabby message:

Hey, it's me again. Really, the rain has picked up and I really don't want to run in this weather. And who would, unless you're a duck. Since you aren't answering your phone, I'm going to go ahead and meet you at our meeting place. But I still don't want to run in rain.

To be honest, even if it had have been sunny, I still wouldn't have wanted to run. I've lost my running mojo. I think it disappeared during Race Weekend last weekend. Maybe it disappeared when I crossed the finished line. Or maybe it disappeared somewhere in the massive crowd in Confederation Park. I don't know what happened, but I think I've hit the wall, so to speak.

Being the great and encouraging running coach that C is, she decided we should run. And she even brought me a rain jacket. After prolonging it as long as I could, we ran. The number of runners running on the pathway was sparse, but there were lots of ducks. We ran from one side of the canal to the other. Since I have a 10k run on Saturday, I needed to get a long run in. By 8k, I was done, but I made the decision to keep on truckin' and go another 3k. I don't think I was ever so happy to see the finish line. My feet were sore. My butt was sore. And I was soaked.

I apologized for the crabby message and C accepted my apology. She said that once she may have sounded just like the message I left. I love running, but sometimes it is hard to talk yourself into hitting the pavement. But does it ever feel good to cross the finish line, especially in the rain.