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Posts tagged ‘weather’

A no-run holiday


I woke up too late to get in a decent run (over four miles) today, so I just kind of said no to any distance. Instead, I decided that I’d burn off enough calories helping out with a baking/pie contest and walking around in the heat. It’s only 5:23 p.m. and I’m already exhausted…but we’re having friends over for dinner and fireworks.

I don’t think I’ve ever voluntarily gone for a run on July 4. It’s one of those holidays I tend to skip when it comes to putting on the running shoes and heading out the door.

For one, it’s really, really hot where I live (see photo). It’s also just not one of my “overindulgent” holidays. Not typically, at least. Today, I made a cake and a Smore treat from Pinterest, though. That may change.

I usually got a six to eight mile run for Thanksgiving. For longer holiday weekends, I try to fit my long run in on the actual holiday (which usually gives me my weekend, always nice). I don’t really consider holidays rest days.

Except for July 4.

Maybe it’s because it’s been mid-way through the week over the past couple years. Maybe it’s because I overbook myself.

Either way, there’s no run today. I have 11 miles down for the month already, so I’m fine with that.

Happy Independence Day!

Overhydrating on a rest day


The 100-degree temperatures usually don’t keep me down, but today I mandated a rest day for myself. In the past seven days, I’ve run 40 miles. Yesterday, my three-mile run was more painful than it was fun.

I figured, then, it was time for a rest day. So today there was no run, despite my legs feeling better. Instead, I spent all day working and hydrating.

At 11 a.m., I had already gone through two bottles full of water. Since then, I’ve probably taken down six more. Temperatures reached 101 today. We still have multiple more days in the three-digit zone before this heat wave breaks.

The problem, though, is now I’m likely over hydrated. I’ve been craving salt for about three hours now, thinking I was just really dehydrated. So I’ve been hydrating more. And more. And more.

There is a limit in how much water you can drink before it makes you feel a little off. Had I of run today, I likely wouldn’t be feeling as “ugh” as I am right now. Here’s proof that as much as hydration is important, it’s also something to watch as to not overdo it.

It’s too hot to run outside

I am a treadmill evangelist. I love my treadmill. I don’t care what anyone says about it being boring or monotonous. There have been many times when my treadmill is my only saving running grace.

Today was one of those days. And it’s not because I waited to long to run and didn’t want to venture into the night. Nope.

It’s because my air conditioner kicked on in my house immediately after I woke up.

That means my house was already 85-degrees. At 8 a.m.

I tried to put myself together quick to GET OUT THE DOOR AND RUN BEFORE IT GOT HOTTER. About a half mile from my house, still within my neighborhood, but almost out to my six-mile loop trail, I pulled out the metaphorical white flag.

I surrendered to the heat.

And I went home, into my air conditioned formal living room, grabbed a box fan from my bedroom and turned the small one I keep near my treadmill on and finished my run.

Then I confessed to it on Twitter.


I’m not sorry. I’ve spent the past two 100+ temperature days hydrating my little butt off and yet my calves cramped up like there was no tomorrow as I ran through my neighborhood. Coming off a massive misuse and mistreatment of my left hip and I wasn’t willing to do anymore damage.

I hopped on the treadmill and ran through nearly two episodes of “Clean House” on Netflix (I love the way Niecy Nash looks at the clutterbugs and says “Take me to your foolishness!”).

Two hours later, I snapped a picture of my yet-to-be-disassembled partial setup.


Both of those fans were on. And the sun was the opposite direct this morning so the treadmill didn’t get that much heat.

There are multiple heat warnings going out today from municipalities, including my small 80,000-person city of Tracy. Officials took to Twitter today to encourage people to go, of all places, the cool mall. Or the local transit center on the other side of town.

If local officials are encouraging people to seek shelter from the heat, I’m keeping my two-fan, Netflix setup for my shorter run tomorrow. At least inside I don’t have to worry about reapplying sunscreen.

Especially considering this is just the beginning of the heat streak.

Yes. I’m totally good with my treadmill right now.

A very soggy Easter

We’ve had a hell of a storm over the past 24 hours in Northern California. It let up for a little while today, while I hosted a small Easter gathering, but nearly 30 minutes after my family left, it started pouring again.

While I was making dinner, it was already coming down pretty good.

Then the clouds parted. The sun came out. I figured it was over. But I haven’t been watching the news religiously about the storm. My husband has. He knew another round, with thunder and lightning, was on the way.

When the next downpour started, he went outside right in the middle of it to unclog our drains in the backyard. Our ducks were having a fun time running through the big puddles, but the water was coming up to the house and on the concrete porch.

He then went and checked the front of our house, where the drainage from our backyard flows underground to the sidewalk in the front. He ran back in yelling: “You have to come see this!”

He was really, really excited.

Right down the street from us, not even 100 yard, the entire street was completely flooded.


So, of course, he wants to take our new-to-us Jeep for a spin around the block and right through the puddle. We drove around the block a couple times, going through some pretty big puddles. Then we joined our neighbors and watched people hit the flood on our street. The compact and sports cars mostly turned around. There was no trying for them.

We did see one Mustang go through it.

We saw big, lifted trucks gun it through the flooded area.

Some cars got halfway through, stopped, and turned around. It wasn’t too deep, but the neighbor children were getting our wake boards and putting on bathing suits to play in it. I don’t think I’d want to play in it, it’s all runoff, but they were having a good time.

Our neighbors were laughing. We joked about having lakefront property.

I even shot some video.

It’s still pretty damp outside.

When my husband and I drove around the neighborhood, we went by my running paths. The paths are designed around drainage ditches in the neighborhoods, probably the nicest drainage system I’ve seen in a city in a long time.

The runoff areas were flooded as well. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them like that. And we’ve lived here for nearly three years. It was pretty amazing.

I’m glad I did my eight-mile run yesterday when it was still nice and sunny too.

Gift idea for a runner: Hand warmers


Baby, it’s cold outside.

Not as cold as it could be here in California, but definitely not as warm as it was a couple weeks ago. I’m pulling out more of my long-sleeve shirts and jackets to run in. Though, I’m still not back to running since the marathon thanks to the cold of death I can’t seem to shake.

That’s why I invested in some Hot Hands hand warmers recently. I found a two pack in the $1 bin at the local Target. These little cushions of heat keep the hands warm. There are also some for your feet, but my feet already get hot quickly so I didn’t grab any of those.

A couple packs of these makes a perfect gift for a runner. Why?

Consider that we’re often standing around trying to warm up before runs. Our hands, unless you own a pair of running gloves, tend to get cold fast. Sometimes I’d rather not wear my running gloves because I know I’ll end up taking them off mid run.

The solution is a hand warmer to hold onto while you wait and then throw away at the first water stop, or even before the race begins (in the proper place, of course).

A perfect solution. And the price is right.

Frustrated and fortunate

I woke up this morning annoyed for many reasons.

After CIM, I decided to take a week off of running. I need a reprieve. I needed some “me” time. I was then reminded why I run a marathon at the beginning of December: So that I feel as if I can eat, drink and be merry the rest of the month.

The problem is that in the past four days I’ve developed the cold from hell. I have a serious case of post-nasal drip that’s making it hard to talk, let alone do anything else.

So I kind of can’t run. I tried. I started and suddenly felt like my head was being held underwater.

I’ll admit, I’m the type who, when my husband is sick, tells him to “Suck it up, Buttercup” and get moving.’ Then I realize how close to death I feel when I’m sick. I need a nap, right now.

So I’m frustrated and more than just a little annoyed.

As I was throwing myself together this morning, staring wantonly at my running shoes, I realized what an idiot I was for being frustrated by something as simple as a cold. Really now. Nice realization braniac. And it took me awhile, really.

But more than that, I have a lot of reasons to “get over” a lot of what’s happening in my life right now. (Some will call this progress.)

Because I am also very fortunate.

Fortunate, for starters, that the nice folks in Clarksburg sent me my medal from the November run. Fortunate that they included a $5 coupon off the race next year. Fortunate because I ran 20 miles that day and, unlike today, didn’t feel like my head was underwater.

I’m also fortunate that, despite feeling like death, I haven’t gained all that much weight lately.

Thanks for that pathetic Weight Watchers meal. I appreciate you keeping my butt flat.

But my biggest realization came when I walked out into my garage and realized that I had a pretty ridiculous decision to make today. I had to decide which car I was going to drive.

In October, my husband and I bought a new car.

We didn’t know what would happen the following week, a la Tara freak out, but we signed the papers and got the keys to put ourselves $22,000 in the hole.

My first thought as I tried to figure out how much sick time I had from work was that we’d have to return the car. Except you can’t really take a car back. My husband, though, has assured me that we can afford it. (Go us for being fiscally responsible!)

The deal was, however, that if we bought a new car, especially a Jeep, I wouldn’t have to get rid of my 10-year old Camaro, which was giving us lots of money worth of trouble. This year alone it cost me $3,000 in fixes. Plus, I need a new set of $800 tires. And new breaks. And the windows don’t roll down. And it needs a tune up.

There’s also some weird electrical thing wrong with it that means the stereo regularly turns itself off. Let’s be real, it might be haunted. A poltergeist, perhaps.

But it still runs. It just requires a little babying. And an AAA membership.

So every couple weeks I pull it out of the garage and take it out.

Why did I keep it, you’re wondering, if it has so many problems. The answer is complicated. But it’s also simple: She’s my baby.

My Camaro was the first car that was actually “mine.” I can account for every mile and milestone. My car went with me on internships to Colorado and Texas. It braved the Oakland streets, with a Club, the two years I was there. It’s very much part of who I am.  Even at 10 years old, it’s still a beauty. The only damage to it, outside of knicks where the rocks hit me on the freeway, is a slightly bent side panel from when I sideswiped a pole at five miles per hour. (Yes. That happened. Shows me for not letting the valet park my car at University of California, Berkeley. And yes, UC Berkeley has valets, it’s still weird to me too.)

Who lets an 18-year-old buy a Camaro? My parents. Because they rock. And I was spending through my part-time job money faster than I could make it. The car meant responsibility.

My mom and I looked at Pontiac Grand-Ams. We checked out Dodge Neons. We also went and looked at Chevrolet Cavaliers in the beginning. Then they decided I could have my “dream car.”

My friends are all buying their dream cars now. I driven mine for 10 years.

So when we needed a new car, I realized I didn’t want a new Camaro as much as I thought. I wanted MY Camaro. Because it has history. Because my parents trusted me with a V6 sports car as a teenager. Because I’ve taken good care of it. I cried when my husband mentioned selling it. I know that sounds horribly cheesy, but I did.

Then we bought a Jeep. It’s definitely not a Camaro, but it’s something my husband and I both agreed on. (Once, when I was in high school, I drove this red 1988 Jeep Cherokee to school. It smelled like gas all the time and shook violently when we tried to take it over 60-miles-per hour on the freeway.)

I’m actually learning to enjoy it.

So fine, I have a cold. I’m frustrated that I can’t run. I’m frustrated by a lot of things right now.

But I’m damn fortunate too.

Battling the elements at California International Marathon: Part II

I had planned to do the rest of this race recap yesterday, but in the past 24 hours have started feeling significantly more under the weather than I have been lately. I’m blaming the deluge from the race.

It started, as colds do, with a little itch. It’s now a sore throat and general soreness.

But I was feeling really good on Saturday. I fell asleep at 9:30 p.m. and, unlike my last marathon, actually slept really well during the night.

I woke up and immediately got to work “lubing” up, for lack of a better term.

Glide under my sports bra. Aquaphor between my toes, along my arms, etc. Anti-chafe anywhere I could put it. My greatest fear was that I would be running and suddenly realize I was chafing somewhere thanks to the rain.

That definitely should have been a fear, except not in the spots I thought.

My husband and I got out of our hotel, near downtown, at about 5:30 a.m. It took us about 20 minutes to get up to Folsom, two miles from the start line.

It was then that the rain was really coming down.

Someone posted the image above to Facebook, showing what we ran through that day. In the morning, when I got to the busing area for the marathon start, it was already pouring. The wind was howling. A local transit line had crews all along the street because a tree fell on the lines. That wouldn’t get fixed for another day or so.

I ran across the street toward a line of school buses. There was no escaping it at this point. It was pouring down rain. It was crazy. The wind was blowing so much that it was hitting me horizontally. I threw on the $1.47 poncho.

It kept me dry for about two minutes. That’s right. My legs were wet by the time my five-minute wait for the bus was over.

Speaking of the bus … it was warm. But our bus driver took us a very different way than last year. We ended up behind the start instead of in front of it. There were a couple questions on the bus whether she knew where she was going, but we ended up right where we needed to be.

I quickly ran over to the long line of portable toilets.

There was hardly any lines, but people were also sticking around in the stalls rather than getting out. Seriously. I waited five minutes and no doors opened in front of me where there were seven or eight toilets.

Come on people. When one, further down, finally opened, I jetted to it. I didn’t care at that moment whether or not someone else was in line. (Sorry folks, put waiting in a portable toilet line in the pouring rain is not cool. Wow. Thanks for being considerate folks.)

I huddled under a gas station cover until about 6:58 a.m. along with everyone else.

At 7 a.m., the race began.

And it was downhill, crazy fun for the first couple miles.

Mile 1: 10:36 — Nice start, my legs didn’t feel cold at all. I was still mostly dry.

Mile 2: 10:34

Mile 3: 10:50

Somewhere around this time, my Garmin turned itself off. I got to the three-mile sign and realized the Garmin hadn’t beeped. Instead it was stuck at 2.67. When did that happen?

And how was I supposed to get it back on track.

Crap. Less than three miles in. I turned it back on and kept going.

Mile 4: 10:52 — Still feeling good.

Mile 5: 11:11 — It’s pouring down rain. But I’m going fairly consistent. I’m actually enjoying the run here. About this time I get to the relay switch, which always brings a good amount of people. (Remember, Garmin was off the entire time, so the real exchange is somewhere at 5.9 or so.)

Mile 6: 6:30 — This isn’t right. I only ran .53 miles here to get my Garmin back on track with the signs.

Mile 7: 11:21

Mile 8: 11:58

Mile 9: 11:54 — I felt as if I was being fairly consistent here with pacing. But it appears to be a little more off than I thought here.

Mile 10: 11:41

Mile 11: 12:12

Mile 12: 11:50

Mile 13: 11:47 — My half time was somewhere close to 2:30. I was excited to be coming in pretty strong in this area. I wasn’t tired, yet, but that would come soon enough.

Mile 14: 12:25 — And here’s where the fatigue actually set in. It came so quickly. The rain was still coming down. I was running through puddles, but also skipping here and there. It was killing my feet. Killing. It hurt so bad.

Mile 15: 13:30 — Slowing down. Lame. But the rain is letting up. Good sign, right?

Mile 16: 12:38 — Gu to pick it back up. Trying to get back into this. Trying.

This is the point where the rain was letting up. I realized then that I was drenched. I mean I was wet in places where I really didn’t want to be. Seriously. My underwear? Yes. My sports bra. Yes.

And I still had the poncho on.

The water had absorbed through my clothes and the poncho was basically useless at this point. So I took it off and threw it to the side near the end of this mile.

This is about right after I ditched the poncho. When I realized my long-sleeve shirt was also wet, I just took it off. It was a warmish 60-degrees, so I felt as if I could finish in my tank top.

I was starting to get ridiculously tired now.

The wind and water had taken nearly everything out of me.

Mile 17: 12:30 — One foot in front of the other.

Mile 18: 13:16

Mile 19: 13:59

Mile 20: 13:02 — The “wall” party wasn’t as exciting as it could be. I’m sure it had everything to do with the weather. There were hardly any people out there. I realized, however, that we didn’t even have the start arches at the beginning because of the rain.

Mile 21: 13:28 — This is when I looked down and realized something was very wrong with my right foot. It was rubbing really bad against the back of the shoe, which is something that it has never done before.

Mile 22: 14:21 — I briefly stopped at an aid station to grab a Band-Aid. Except it wouldn’t stick. My feet were too waterlogged. Both were completely saturated.

Mile 23: 13:59 — I had to keep going. My foot was killing me. My IT band was hurting too now.

Mile 24: 14:37

Mile 25: 12:29 — Just need to keep going. By now, the feet were really killing me. I’m nearing the end here, and I look as tired as I am.

Mile 26: 13:05 — Notice the overcast sky? It didn’t seem that dark, but it was.

Mile .31: 3.27

Chip time: 5:24:52

I added four minutes onto my time from last year. I was actually aiming at coming in around 5:15 this time, but the weather and the wet feet kind of killed that for me.

I crossed the finish line and was handed by epic medal and I wandered, now in pain and wanting to take my shoes off, through the end corral.

It seemed as if there were more people around this year when I finished, probably again because of the rain. I took a heat sheet and a bottle of water, though I’d been hydrating well along the course too, and walked out.

My husband wasn’t yet at the finish line. Apparently he didn’t have as high hopes for me as I did. He figured I’d be done around 5:30.

I did shave more than 10 minutes off time from San Diego, but that’s not even comparable.

I’m upset that I was doing so well and, yet, it all kind of fell apart after the fact. But I was pretty damaged. My feet hurt. My face had wind burn. And heels were torn apart.

Yes. I put up a photo of one of my feet. Both were completely pruned up. Little blisters everywhere. (That blood blister was there beforehand. It wasn’t caused by the race, but the blister on top of it was. I didn’t even know that was possible.)

And when I got home, I realized that only Duct Tape could have saved that heel that Band-Aids wouldn’t stick too.

The back of my running shoes and my socks were bloody. It was a wet, bloody mess.

I’m thankful that I was able to get most of it out. It now just looks like a faint pink stain. Sorry to put up the gross stuff, but I’ve never had that happen in a race before. In San Diego my shoes torn up my feet completely. My Nikes were fine for the first 15 miles or so before this started.

In fact, I don’t think this happened until it started to get dry outside. The water was apparently lubricating my feet, along with the Aquaphor and Glide. Then it ran out.

Would it have been better if I had applied for Glide instead of trying a Band-Aid? I think by the time I realized it was happening the damage was already done.

I should be upset by this race. I should be mad that I didn’t make goal.

But I’m not.

I ran a good race. The things that came up were unexpected. I was exhausted by mile 15. After battling the rain, I just had little to nothing in me. My foot was killing me the last six miles. And I ran, in the rain, for nearly the entire thing.

And I finished.

That’s a lot more pain on my face than I was expecting. I heard some people say at the expo that they weren’t even going to run the race because of the weather. I know more probably woke up and decided against it that morning.

I never doubted I’d be out at the start. I never doubted that at some point I’d get to the end.

I battled through this thing. And I won the battle.

A year ago, I probably wouldn’t have thought about waking up and running a whole 26.2 in the mostly pouring rain. Critics say you shouldn’t run a marathon your first year as a runner. I believe that now, even though I did it last year.

This year, I realized that the marathon isn’t just about running all those miles. It’s about realization. It’s about finding something deep within yourself to pull you through. This year, I had that in me from the start line. Last year, I doubted myself until mile 25. Only then I knew I could do it.

I know I can do it now, even in the pouring rain. I just want to get better, and maybe achieve that 5:15 goal soon. Then, maybe, work on getting my time to under five hours.

But I’m not disappointed in this race. Not at all.

In fact, it was even a little bit fun. Or at least it was before my feet started getting torn up.

Battling the elements at California International Marathon: Part I

I’ll be honest, I’m not even sure where to begin this race report. In many ways, California International Marathon should have been a better run for me. It should have been the race where I recorded a new personal record, after months of solid training runs. It should have been where I finally felt as if I was ready to run 26.2 without problems.

Unfortunately, the weather had other ideas.

ying it wasn’t fun. Not at all.

But the elements took everything I had out of m

For the first 18 miles of the run, it was pouring rain. There were wind gusts up to 40-miles per hour. At one point, I swear the rain was coming at me horizontally. I’m not sae. And it sucked.

Let me rewind, though, to the day before. My husband and I left for Sacramento when the sky was overcast in Tracy. It was actually present until we reach the county line.

Then we saw ominous foreboding of what was to come.

And we knew that was only the beginning of what was coming. Forecasters projected up to an inch of rain during the morning hours on Sunday. It was to start raining the night before.

It was going to the rain. No matter what. No doubt about it.

The forecast couldn’t get much worse than that, right? Then it did. Suddenly the wind speeds were projected to be higher. Add to that a possibility of thunder storms and it’s every runners dream to tackle a marathon in.

Or not.

We made it to Sacramento around 3 p.m. and made our way to the expo. It was already pouring down rain then. Plus, the streets were flooded in most directions. To get to the convention center, we literally had to jump over puddles that were more than six inches deep.

Needless to say, my shoes got wet.

My jeans were also wet up to my knees. The expo was, just like last year, quick to navigate. I picked up my packet and Jennie’s, again without needing an identification, and we wandered around for a couple minutes. I picked up a $5 poster commemorating the 30th anniversary of the event in addition to the race swag.

Let’s talk about the swag for a minute folks.

The marathon runners were given some extra prizes this year in addition to a nice green long-sleeve shirt.

Each runner received a reusable bag, a nice one not one of those cheap ones the Rock ‘n’ Roll series gives out, a pair of gloves and a neck gaiter with custom CIM logos.

The items were pretty nice.

I’m especially excited about the neck gaiter. It can be used as a headband, or a neck wrap or a cap. Lots of uses, definitely an awesome addition to the swag bag.

Now I know it was raining and people tend to be cranky when it rains, but the complaints from the relay teams about not getting the extra swag was ridiculous. A guy in the line behind my husband and I was getting angry with the volunteers. Angry. With volunteers. Really?

“When we registered it didn’t say anything about NOT getting this stuff,” he complained.

The timid teenager who was opening up the swag bags just kept telling him that the items were for “marathoners only.” The guy kept getting more and more upset.

Wow. Calm yourself dude. Seriously. Sure, the website didn’t say anything about relay runners not receiving the goods, but at the same time it’s not the volunteers who made the decision. Don’t yell at them. OK. Rant over.

We didn’t stay at the expo too long if only because I was wet and tired. Instead, we headed to our Sacramento hotel. It wasn’t one of the shuttle hotels, but my husband would be driving me to the start.

After check in, we decided to head downtown, as we kept checking the weather reports, for dinner. The problem is we didn’t have reservations so our first attempt at a pasta dinner was thwarted.

We ended up getting a nice pasta, chicken mix at the 4th Street Grille, where other marathoners were also eating. Our waiter was awesome, despite teasing about the weather for the next day. I know, I told him. It will be bad.

Just then, it really started raining.

The storm system had come in. It was bad. Awful. Buckets upon buckets of rain.

Not really buckets, but it was pretty bad.

We watched the rain out the window as the television showed a storm tracking into the area that would likely deliver the brunt of the storm at the beginning of the race. So. I’ve never run a race in the rain before. Never. There have been times where the rain threatened a race, but in the end it only rained for a couple minutes or not at all.

I was going into this blind. With a rain poncho. And lots of Body Glide.

I kept telling myself I would be fine, just fine. The poncho would keep me dry. Right? The Glide would make sure I didn’t get blisters anywhere. Yes? I had no idea what I was in for the next day. Not at all.

See all my anti-chafe stuff? Little did I know it wouldn’t be enough when my feet were soaking in my shoes for more than three hours. It was going to be a wet and wild run, that’s for sure.

About that rain forecast for CIM

So rain is still on the forecast for Sunday’s California International Marathon. And it’s what everyone is talking about on Facebook on the race’s page. A lot of people have even asked if the race would be canceled due to the inclement weather.

That doesn’t surprise me, in light of the cancellation of the New York Marathon after Superstorm Sandy hit the east coast.

Except this is California.

And it’s rarely THAT BAD here.

In fact, one of the last times we experienced epic flooding in the Sacramento area was 1996. That’s when levees were breached. That’s when whole areas of homes were flooded, including some in areas down by my hometown of Stockton.

But it is never really that bad here. Sure, flooding is projected. But we sometimes define “flooding” as streets getting six inches of water. All the news stations today showed “flooding” just like that.

In any case, I’ve taken a couple days to prepare a plan.

A plan? If it’s not that serious, why would I have a plan?

I’m trying not to start the race completely drenched. I know that will be a fruitless effort once I get going, but I’m going to try to keep dry for a least a minute or two.

First off, the weather is projected to be about 60 degrees.

That’s not cold.

UPPER: So I’m actually planning on wearing a Lululemon Run:Swifty tank as my main race shirt. I’ll wear a long sleeve over it, but not something too heavy. I don’t want to wear something bulky, but I want to be warm. I’ll likely take a Nike wool pullover I have. The wool will keep me warm in the morning, but it’s light enough that I can tie it around my waist during the race. I’m not worried about it getting wet. I’ve run in the rain with it before.

I may, though, opt for just a regular Nike pullover. I’ll take a variety of clothes, just in case.

LOWER: I’m planning on wearing Lululemon Run: Bright at Night capris. I was considering pants, but because it won’t be too cold, I’d rather not have wet ankles. The capris will mean my ankles get wet, but with the wind (it’s supposed to be strong), I’m hoping I’ll also dry off a little too.

VISOR: I’ll wear my Asics visor to keep the rain out of my eyes. I’m opting to not wear a hat, if only because it will just get wet and my hair will get wet. I can handle running with wet hair, so why not just start out that way?

CONTACTS: I rarely, if ever, wear my contacts. I’m more annoyed with them than not most the time. And I’ve just become incredibly comfortable with glasses since I started wearing them in 2004. But my contacts come out every once in awhile, mostly for special occasions. Last year I ran with contacts for CIM. I’m doing it this year mainly because I’d rather not have rain all over my glasses.

SHOES AND SOCKS: I’m applying the fabric protector above to my shoes and socks. It may not work. That’s fine. My hope is that I can get through at least some of the race with dry feet. If it’s the downpour it’s expected to be, I’ll be all wet at the end. I’m hoping that a comfortable pair of socks will mean I don’t have blisters.

TOES: I’m still having issues with my baby toes curling under the toe next to them. I’ve gone through three pairs of shoes and this is still a problem. I actually bought toe spacers because if I end up with blisters, it will be in this area. I used similar toe spacers for the Clarksburg Country Run a couple weeks ago.

These ones are thicker, but I have a blood blister on one of my toes I don’t want to aggravate.

CHAFING: I’m going to use Body Glide everywhere. I’m also taking a small container of it, purchased at an expo a while back, to carry in my capri pocket just in case I chafe along the way. I know there will be Vasoline along the course as well.

BEFORE RACE: And I bought a poncho. I grabbed one for Jennie too. I’m not planning on running the entire race with this, but I likely will run a couple miles if it’s really bad. Or I may just throw it to the side once the race starts. I’m hoping it keeps me dry before the race though, when we’re all standing waiting for the gun to fire.

I know that I am going to be a mess at the end of this. That’s inevitable. But I’m hoping taking some precautions beforehand, and at least planning, will set me on the right path on a rainy day.

I’ve never run a half marathon in rain let alone a marathon, so we’ll see how it goes. I’m trying not to be worried about beating last year’s time. If it happens, it happens.

A lot of people are saying they are just hoping to finish this year. I’m trying not to be too pessimistic about my chances, but I think it’s going to be a “wait and see” thing for me.

But I’m ready. Even with the 100 percent chance of rain.


Forecast calling for a very wet California International Marathon

So the weather for this weekend looks awesome for staying inside and lighting a nice fire.

But I’ll be out running 26.2 miles from Folsom to Sacramento instead. On Sunday, the forecast for Sacramento even calls for a “potential for flooding rains.”

Earlier today, the forecast called for 70% chance of rain. Now it’s higher.


I’ve only run parts of half marathons in the rain and cold. This looks like it will be a full deluge for the five hours or so it will take me to finish this thing.

Maybe if it’s pouring down rain I’ll run faster? One can only hope.

But this means I’ll pull out the contacts, which I rarely wear. But it’s better than having my glasses covered with rain drops everywhere. I’ll wear a visor (because a hat will just get wet anyway, so I might as well just wear the visor).

I’m still trying to figure out what shirt to wear, if only because I think it will also be cold. So I want to be warm. But if I get soaking wet and then it clears up, I also want to dry out quick. I also don’t want to lug around a soaking wet long-sleeve shirt forever.

I’m planning on taking a garbage bag to the start. I’ll also take Aquaphor to make sure I don’t chafe. I can’t imagine what chafing would feel like after that long in the rain.

So while I’m not looking forward to running in pouring rain, at least I have a plan.

That said, I’m still crossing my fingers to hope the storms pass and dump all four inches of the rain we’re expecting (apparently it would be a record for rainfall) before Sunday.

It started raining today, so I think we have some hope.

There was a bit of a clearing today during the lunch hour before an afternoon appointment I had to go to. So I headed to a sweet shop in the small town I live in. I picked up some homemade rocky road (nothing like killing a diet during taper week, oops).

Our town put up the Christmas tree in our town square area this week. But the photo is more to show the clouds than the tree. It’s a pretty impressive cloud showing.

I’m not going to let rain ruin my marathon. But I’d love to have a little less wet, a little more sun come Sunday.