I realize this about myself and I am completely comfortable with it.  I have lots of quirks.  Lindsey quirk #1- I absolutely refuse to eat carrots, but that’s really beside the point.

It’s no big secret that runners are kind of a different breed.  We enjoy things like running 26 miles at one time.  We thrive on the excruciating pain of pushing ourselves to the point of puking. We say things like, “This Gu is delicious.  It really tastes like peanut butter.” And being halfway through a 20 miler when the sun just starts to show itself on a Saturday morning, when the rest of the world is sleeping, is exhilarating to runners everywhere.  But my absolute favorite?  Going out to run in the rain and getting soaked to the skin.

On race day, I am thrilled when it’s raining.  I watch the 10 day forecast, celebrating as the chance of precipitation rises.  I’ve always said I do my best work in the rain.  Every race I can think of that I’ve run in the rain, be it a light mist or a heavy downpour, it usually ends with a PR.  There is just something about the way the humidity opens up my lungs and I find my mojo.  I stay hydrated.  But I think more than anything, the rain makes me put everything else aside and just say…I’m out here getting wet, so I might as well go for it, no holding back.  Something about willingly going out fully clothed with the intention of getting drenched makes me feel a little bit like a badass.  And if I’m gonna label myself as such, I need to prove it.  So, I lay it on the line.

Yesterday, I spent the morning at work, watching the rain fall outside, counting the minutes until I could run the hills of Babler.  I got there with exactly 50 minutes until I had to pick my kids up from school.  School is about 12 minutes away. I had 38 minutes to run the 4 mile loop. No problem. I jumped out of the car into a steady fall of rain, and got after it. I finished in 33:45, with time to spare. But as I ran in the dampness, it made me think back to some of my favorite running in the rain moments…

• Mile 9 of the 2008 Chicago half-marathon…The Jars of Clay song ‘Flood’ came on my ipod.  At that point it felt like it had literally been raining for 40 days and 40 nights, so I had to laugh as I sloshed through puddles that left my Mizunos wet for a couple days afterward.
• Running past the brewery during the 2009 GO! St. Louis Half-marathon, tipping my head up to the sky and letting the rain fall on my face.  I remember smiling…right before I almost gagged on the stench of stale hops.
• The Bridge the Gap half-marathon in 2011…or was it 2010…it rained the whole race.  That was the first time I learned what I was really capable of in the rain. I was rewarded with a finisher’s medal placed around my neck by Jackie Joyner Kersee.  She high-fived me and laughed as I announced, “It’s a PR kind of day!”
• At Mile 3 of the 2011 Dallas Whiterock Marathon the skies opened up and dumped on us for 23.2 more miles.  When I crossed the finish line of what was very possibly the most emotional race of my running career no one could tell I was crying.  That race is still my PR.  3:47:11. If all goes well this year, that number is going dowwwwwwn.  By about 7 ½ minutes.
• Walking back to the hotel in Quebec City after my full marathon was cancelled in August of 2011 because of Hurricane Irene.  Ok, so, maybe this one wasn’t such a favorite at the time, but I sure learned a lot from that experience.  At least now I can say I appreciate the lesson from it.  But I still have a bad association with the name Irene.

In May I’m going back to Canada for a rematch.  This time it’s Vancouver.  And, yeah, I really hope it rains.

My friend/partner for Vancouver, Steve, who might hate me after reading that last part.