Rain, Pain, and Automobiles

Running in the Rain
Thanks to El Niño, we've been getting quite a bit of rain over the past month or so. Which is a good thing, because things are seriously dry around these parts (even for a desert) - plus it's kind of a nice change of pace. So last Sunday, I was planning on going for a run, but when I woke up, I heard the distinct pitter-patter of raindrops pitter-patting on my roof, and when I looked outside, it looked cloudy and gloomy and all-around uninviting. But, because I am a trooper (and somewhat compulsive about sticking to my running schedule) I went ahead and bundled up a bit, then headed out for the river path to put in my miles. At first, it was quite enjoyable. There was a slight drizzle, it was pleasantly cool, the river was flowing (water in the river!) I was splashing through puddles, and I felt good. That lasted through the first 8 miles or so. Then things started to shift. My calf started feeling achy, my hip hurt, the rain started falling faster, the wind kicked up, the temperature dropped a couple of degrees, I was thoroughly soaked through… and I still had five miles to go. I don't often want to wish away the final miles of a run (unless I'm running a marathon) but I was feeling pretty bad and was definitely wishing the last few miles were over during the last few miles. But I soldiered on and made it back to the car without succumbing to hypothermia (although I'm sure my core temperature did drop a couple of degrees). I guess it was one of those, "Too much of a good thing," type of things, if you know what I mean (and even if you don't).

More on Running
A couple of weeks ago, Katie invited me to the inaugural "Griffin Gallop" which was a 5K run/walk that her school (Green Fields) was holding to raise money for their sports program. It sounded like fun, so we both signed up and ran. There weren't a whole lot of people there, so I actually had hopes that I might do fairly well. I wasn't planning on "racing" but I still figured I might have a chance to place in my division. And as I ran the race, I started feeling even more optimistic. I started easy, then sped up a little bit and was soon passing lots of people (especially little kids who had sprinted at the start, which made me feel kind of bad - but not bad enough to not pass them). The course was an out-and-back, so as I approached the halfway point, I could see that there weren't very many people in front of me - maybe about a dozen - but I couldn't really tell how old they might be and who might be in my division. Anyway, I was feeling pretty good, so I picked up a the pace a little bit more and passed a few more people, including one guy with about half a mile to go who was struggling to hold on, while I was feeling stronger than ever (and yes, I was gloating a little bit as I passed). So I finished, and Katie finished soon after me, and we ate some pancakes and waited for them to post the results, and it turned out that I came in 8th overall, which I thought was pretty good, but then when they started handing out medals, I found out that I was only 5th in my division, which isn't very good when you consider that I was 8th overall, and then I realized that I am a very petty person, because as they handed out medals to the people in the age groups below mine (35-39 and 40-44) and announced their times, all I could focus on was the fact that my time was faster than the winners in both of those groups, and what's more, the winner of the 40-44 group was the guy that I had passed in the last half mile. Sure, I knew that this was only for fun and to raise money for a good cause, but I still felt as if I'd somehow been cheated, which reminded me, once again, of how petty I can be.

Rites of Passage
There are certain rites of passage in our society - one of which is when a young person turns sixteen and becomes a licensed driver. Carrie recently achieved that milestone, and is now a licensed and insured driver who is legally allowed to operate a motor vehicle in, around, and outside "The Old Pueblo." Along with this rite, though, another rite travels hand-in-hand, which is for the parents of the young person who has just turned sixteen and become a licensed driver to make amusing statements like, "Watch out/beware/drive at your own risk/etc., because _____ just got their license," as often as possible. I don't know why we feel obliged to say this, but who am I to question society and/or culture, so consider yourself warned.