Ike was my weekend running buddy!

Here’s a thought for you; never say to your spouse the night before a half marathon “I think we are getting ripped off by this little hurricane Ike fellow!” The local forecasters were all calling for 5 to 6 inches of rain as this hurricane worked it’s way up though the St. Louis area. They said it would rain all day Saturday and then all day Sunday. However, when I went to bed Saturday night – not a drop.

Sunday morning was race day! I sprang out of bed like a child on Christmas morning. I looked out my window and still, not a drop. About 15 minutes later, I heard a sound. What was it? Drizzle? A Sprinkle? The sidewalk was wet – Hurricane Ike had arrived.

I had never run a race in the rain. Now that I think of it, I had never ever run in the rain (unless you count that time a couple of months ago when I almost got zapped by lightening). But now was my chance – the Lewis and Clark half marathon in the rain! This would be a lot of fun!

When I arrived a bit early for this race, it was pouring. One car had already driven off the side of this 40-acre parking lot and was stuck. I wanted to beat the crowds to the port-o-pottie line, so about an hour before the start, I put my crocs on and opened my umbrella. The first step out of my SUV was in a six-inch deep puddle. I thought that this was not a good sign of things to come.

Knowledge is power. On Friday, knowing the forecast, I googled “Does running in rain hurt your finishing time?” A majority of the articles said it would not. The day before, I had bought a ninety-nine cent disposable poncho, how tough could this be?

About 20 minute before the start, I got dressed, dawned my poncho, and headed towards the start. My dry shoes lasted about twenty-five yards. Funny thing about pouring rain, even at 75 degrees – it’s cold! I sought a bit of shelter from the entrance of a local office building with a few other runners. We looked like the smartest people at the event. As the race time got nearer, I left my shelter and headed for the start line. It was like a scene from that movie about all of those penguins, we all just stood there huddling and hiding from the rain. The start was delayed for about 20 minutes. It was getting really cold.

The gun finally sounded and off we went. The rain was hitting us like bullets from a gun. My poncho was protecting me a bit; this may well have been the best dollar I had ever spent. After about a mile, I realized that it had holes for my arms, this made running a little easier. As the miles clicked by, my times were great. I found a girl with bright purple socks that was running my pace. Cowardly, I drafted behind her and just focused on her socks. I must have followed her for six miles.

I found the water stops a bit ironic. Here we were, getting completely soaked, yet being offered water. This actually was turning out to be a lot of fun. The gusts were getting stronger. Each time a powerful one hit, the runners would all cheer. It was sort of like being in a giant conga line – except without the music.

This was my second year running this event, so I knew the course. But at mile eight, we were forced to take an unexpected left turn. Maybe by now you have gathered that this “Lewis and Clark” marathon was sort of a “retracing” of some of their more famous steps. These guys didn’t explore by spaceship, they tracked across land and rivers. This course followed and crossed the Missouri River. If you do the math; massive amounts of ran plus a big, unpredictable river equals potential trouble. The turn shaved about three miles off of the course. The river was on the rise!

I crossed the newly established finish line (they stopped the race at 10.1 miles) at a pace that would have set a new PR (personal record) for me. They draped the finisher’s medal and a second medal I had earned for competing in both St. Louis events around my neck. I grabbed a banana and my bag of dry clothes from the finishing area and headed for the buses that would take us back to the starting area. I got to my bus seat and a girl asked if the other side of the seat was taken? It was the girl in the purple socks! I told her my story and she looked at me like I was circus folk. I didn’t share with her that because of her girth her primary usefulness for me was wind blocker rather than course beacon because of her bright socks. Nevertheless, when I got back to my truck, I headed back home.

As I left the parking lot, cars were literally submerged in floodwater. Yes, Hurricane Ike had kicked Lewis and Clark’s ass! I, too, learned a valuable lesson about taunting the hurricane gods – if they same there’s a storm coming, it likely is. This event, retrospectively, was a lot of fun, if not a bit irresponsible and crazy! This was just another stepping-stone on the road to Chicago, albeit an incredibly soggy one...