Rain, Forest! Rain!
Although it hasn’t been more than a drizzle, there’s something do be said about running in the damp fall weather. In fact, there a several things I could say about it. Not all of them flattering, however.
On the first night of this session, I arrived to find a plethora of ladies standing circled around the coaches, anxiously awaiting explanation and instruction. I was surprised – as I had been when I took this course last spring – at the number of students that had signed up.
We did the requisite ‘Go around the group and tell us your name, weight, occupation, lifetime goals and reasons for wanting to put yourself on this treacherous and otherwise joyous and lighthearted path to healthy.’
The class was at the suggested-on-the-website capacity, so this process took a good chunk of time. Time we could’ve been intervalling.
I listened intently and asked questions I felt would require long and detailed answers. When it came my time to share, I made sure I started my story from the womb.
Soon, it was dark and I could feel the daggers shooting out of the coaches eyes as I watched the silhouettes of the rest of the group striving to stay upright; their heads bobbing sleepily while they tried to stay awake in the moonlit park.
Alas, my attempts to talk my way through the class without actually crossing the starting line before time was up had failed. The coaches cut me off as I was entering my sixth grade year. Now The Group will never know about the time I got so scared when Mr. Williams snuck up behind me and proceeded to grab the back of my chair as if to tip it over while I was breaking the ‘Don’t lean back in your chair.’ rule in the back of the classroom.
Naturally, the chair ‘slipped’ from his grip and I went crashing to the floor with the loud BANG! to which, I’m sure, we’re all accustomed.
Nor will they be entertained by the riveting story of how I still have a piece of lead lodged in my forearm from when I stored a sharpened pencil in the back pocket of my Dittos, then proceeded to run and jump over large (to me) obstacles, ultimately breaking the pencil in my arm. Ah. Good times in Elementary School were had by all.
But, The Group will not hear those stories, and more. Their loss, really. They have only the coaches to blame.
After cutting me off so abruptly, the coaches proceeded to tell us we will need to purchase a headlamp and reflective running garb for the upcoming evening classes. They also forewarned The Group that, rain or shine, we would be meeting and running. I already knew this, being an experienced Beginning Runner’s student.
And so we began.
Oddly, I had many of the same whiny sentiments as I did the first time around. “Ouch.” “Ugh.” “Are we done yet?” “They made it sound SO easy on the website. Liars.”
You know, those kinds of things.
Odder, still, was that fact that many of the other ladies had similar statements pouring from their lips as they attempted to breathe through the first several intervals.
Right then I got the sense I would really like this Group.
The rain began this last week and we took our first foray into the park under dreary skies. It wasn’t too bad, in my opinion. It was a good learning experience. I know now what not to wear.
Sure, the coaches warned us about dressing incorrectly for rain-running, but I’m the type of person that simply must learn things from my own mistakes. I have the burn marks on my fingertips from when I was four and touched the hot stove to prove it. Even though my mother told me many, many times before not to do touch the red coils, they were just too pretty to resist.
Past tense. I’ve resisted them fine since then.
Another story The Group will never hear. I left it out of my intro. I was confident I could go back and reference it when I talked about how I’d grown into the type who simply must learn things from their own mistakes.
I wasn’t going to talk about that until my story had reached the college years…