Well, actually, it was the Dadfest 5K yesterday. I was in my closet quietly getting changed when I heard the first drops of rain coming down. Big drops, still spaced far apart. Sydney was signed up for the 50 yd dash, for which she received her first running medal in this same race last year, but this year she was still sound asleep in our bed where she had sneaked in overnight. At the sound of rain, I decided to let her sleep in while I eagerly quickened my pace, grabbed by still mud-caked shoes from the Mango Madness run, and headed out the door.
I arrived at the race with about 15 mins to spare. It wasn't raining yet up there, but the PA announcer was already calling wave after wave of the 50 yd dash, trying the get the kids program done before the rain came down. He barely made it. After the last wave, he called the 5K runners to the start line, and as we did, the clouds let loose and it started raining buckets.
At that moment, you knew you were part of a special assembly, runners that step up when conditions threaten, runners that toe the line while spectators dash for cover, runners that run come hell or high water, and we were about to get a LOT of water. Or it's possible that we were just plain nuts.
You could feel a buzz of excitement as we all waited to start the race, hoping to not miss out on the rain. Cheers would sound out when the wind kicked in, or when the rain came down heavier for a moment. We needn't have worried, because all 400 of us ended up running in a constant downpour throughout the entire race. While some ran in the middle of the road, I and others happily ran along the side where the water was deeper and flowing fast toward the storm drains. I was running for pure fun and long ago decided that I wasn't going to run this one for time. I was going to stretch it out. I was going to get a shoe wash. I was going to get my morning shower. Before I knew it, it was almost over. I had barely broken a sweat :-) so I kicked it in and splish-splashed my way home in 26:07.