On Saturday I ran the Brooklyn Half Marathon.
The morning of the race I sat on the edge of the couch in my brother’s apartment, staring out the window at driving rain and wind. My phone said it “felt like” 45 degrees outside. Suddenly the little green poncho I had to be talked into buying the night before would be playing an essential role in my race.
It rained, and rained, and rained. It was cold. SO COLD.
My entire race strategy shifted from “enjoy the run” to “mitigate the suffering”. And although the little green poncho would do its best, I knew I was in for it that day.
But I got up and stepped into the cold anyway.
I got out of my Uber and marched into the rain anyway.
I wore that little green poncho proudly anyway.
I got in line and waited 45 minutes for the race to start in a persistent rain anyway.
I put one foot in front of the other for 13.1 miles anyway.
Every run teaches something, and every race teaches something. Sometimes we learn what we can endure, others we learn to push ourselves. On Saturday, I learned that sometimes the hard work is simply in starting. Sometimes, the work itself (although still work) becomes easier once you get out that door and step into the things that make you uncomfortable.
Although I was cold, although I was soaked, and although I couldn’t wait to get inside where it was warm and dry when the race was over, Saturday was amazing. I had a GREAT time!
There is, however, one more lesson to be had in all of this. Should you ever find yourself in a similar position, literally or figuratively, don’t underestimate the little things. When given the option…
Always buy the little green poncho.