Through the Rain to Tallahassee
The morning felt unusually dark. I didn’t know yet that I’d lost an hour. Little did I realize, the rain would make sure I felt every minute of the day.
I left my hotel in Lamont knowing heavier rain was predicted. Yesterday’s blog had apparently sounded a bit dire — I hadn’t meant to be dramatic, just honest about not feeling my best. Today, I knew the rain would be worse, so I told myself to embrace it and take the right mindset from the start.
It was still dry as I set off, the ground wet but the air calm. Since it was so dark (thanks, daylight savings — I hadn’t figured that out yet), I wore my bright orange vest with reflectors to stay visible on the quiet Sunday roads. Not even a mile in, the rain began. First a drizzle, then a downpour — soaking my shoes, my clothes, everything. My feet squelched in my drenched shoes like I was running with duck fins. Water streamed down my face, cold and steady, dripping from my chin. The air smelled fresh — that earthy scent that comes when the sky opens up. There was no point trying to stay dry, so I told myself to embrace it:
"This is the wettest day so far — might as well experience it fully."
Strangely enough, that mindset helped. I reminded myself that if I could stay positive today, future rainy runs would feel easier. And they will come — I know there will be more downpours ahead on this world run.
Around mile 9, the rain stopped. At mile 11, I took a short break — a quick pee stop, a cereal bar, and some water. I was no longer dripping wet, which made the pause a little easier.
The rain returned soon enough — on and off all the way to Tallahassee. During one of the dry spells, I couldn’t help but sing out loud:
"I can see clearly now, the rain is gone..."
It felt like a tiny victory — a reminder that no downpour lasts forever.
At mile 26, I reached the city limits of Tallahassee, and with it came the challenge of navigating busy streets. Five lanes of traffic, my buggy to push, puddles everywhere — it felt like I needed eyes on all sides. The rain didn’t help. Every step required focus as I dodged puddles, kept an eye on cars, and tried to stay as safe as possible.
About three miles before my destination, I stopped at a gas station for water. Grocery stores felt too far, too exhausting in the cold and wet. With water in hand, I knew I had enough for the evening, even if I stuck to couscous for dinner.
Finally reaching the hotel, I checked in, peeled off my soaked clothes, and stepped into a hot shower. The day had been exhausting, but strangely satisfying. I felt good. I hadn’t really spoken to anyone during the run — just a quick exchange with the gas station clerk and the hotel receptionist. When it rains like that, conversation feels unlikely. My focus had been on point all day, and now I was grateful to be warm and dry, sitting on a couch, feeling calm.
Today reminded me that sometimes you just have to keep moving forward — wet shoes, tired legs, and all — trusting that clearer skies will follow.
Knowing you're following along makes these challenging days easier. Your support means a lot. Thanks for being here. Until tomorrow — be well.