It doesn’t rain much in California. San Francisco, where I live and train, is frequently wet because of the year-round fog on the western side of the city. On Thursday, however, it rained a decent amount. I think the accumulation was more than an inch over several hours. The air temperature was somewhere in the high 40’s (Fahrenheit) and the winds were gusty.
I set off at 6:20am to meet my friend Will in the pre-dawn dark. Given the bad weather, it was definitely one of those days that I may have stayed in bed if I didn’t already have plans. Because of my travel for the past weeks, Will and I hadn’t seen each other for almost a month. I was about to leave for the next month, too, and I didn’t want to miss the chance to catch up with him. So, I layered up with clothes that would keep me warm for a couple hours in the rain, I turned my headlamp on as I locked the front door, and I set off for the run.
Will and I met up in the Castro, which is geographically between our neighborhoods, and we ran up and over Twin Peaks. On the top of Twin Peaks, the weather made it feel like we were in the middle of a proper storm. The winds were strong enough that we had to shout to communicate, and we were both shielding our faces with our arms when bigger gusts blew. The rain didn’t quite feel like stinging nettles, but it was getting close.
We ran down the South side and hopped onto the trail system that meanders through Laguna Honda. The rain and winds weren’t so bad in the forested areas. We ran around Edgehill, up Mt. Davidson, and through Glen Canyon. Mt. Davidson and Glen Canyon were cold. We parted ways before 8am.
I consider myself a fair-weather runner these days, at least compared to my past. My years in Michigan, Ohio, and Colorado taught me what bad weather really means. I used to fully embrace the attitude expressed in variations on the phrase “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad gear/attitude/preparation.” I don’t frequently run in the kinds of conditions that I used to encounter all winter long in those places. I used to run in microspikes (or equivalent) on a regular basis for December through March. Now, I often go entire winters without using a traction device.
I do give myself credit, though, for being a very persistent runner through all conditions that the Bay Area throws at me. I think that bad weather sets the mood for some great athletic experiences. These experiences are often self-inspiring when they’re recalled later in life. I ran my best 10k at Kezar Stadium in San Francisco in the pouring rain, with nobody else there in the entire stadium. I recall an incredibly cathartic experience, especially in the midway point of the time trial.
Good preparation for a goal race requires preparation for awful conditions. When I ran TDS in 2021, we had a rain-delay start, where all the runners were sitting in the start corrals waiting for the race organizers to make announcements. Most of us were fairly comfortable sitting on the ground, rain jackets draped over our bodies and packs. A few hours later, I encountered a thunderstorm as I was going over a mountain pass at the border of Italy and France. Many of the elites were shivering uncontrollably as I rolled through the aid station in my rain gear and extra layers. It was frigid, with mixed hail and rain coming down hard, and I knew that I needed to keep moving to stay warm, but it was a set of conditions that didn’t scare me. My persistence of training through bad weather paid off in allowing me to continue, where others were failing.
Running with Will in the rain on Thursday provided me with two awesome benefits at the same time. It forced me to become familiar with rain and low-40’s temps again, and it allowed me to share a memorable run and conversation with a good friend. Will and I haven’t known each other for more than a couple years, but I can already point to a few memories that we’ve shared in athletic pursuits through sub-optimal conditions. Will led our route on my first day ski touring, and it involved a lot more hard-pack ice than we would have liked. He was underdressed for our run Thursday, and as a result we ended up running a bit harder than we otherwise would have in order to keep our core temperatures up. These type 2 experiences often bring up more smiles than the perfect days, when we recall them.
Experience running hard in the rain and low temperatures is one of the ingredients for proper Boston Marathon preparation. I ran my best race there in 2015, which had similar conditions to my run on Thursday. I wore arm sleeves and gloves for the entire race, and I had to be wrapped in a heat blanket and change out of my wet clothes as quickly as possible at the end because of the cold and my body’s inability to get warm. The race in 2018 had historically bad conditions where many runners became hypothermic and were unable to finish. Des Linden, who lives and trains in Michigan, won the women’s race because of her grit through those conditions. I have no doubt that Des’s experience training through Michigan winters allowed her to find a lot more comfort in those conditions than her competition.
Persistence in training can be thought of a sum of manifestations of willpower. Persistence turns into perseverance when those manifestations of willpower occur in adverse conditions. The terms are related, but not the same. I practice persistence, which enables me to persevere when I need it most.