Peter Snell, one of New Zealand’s legendary runners, used to say he loved training in bad weather because he figured his competition was skipping their runs—so he was gaining. I think he was on to something.
When I was a competitive runner, I hated writing a zero in my logbook. It gnawed at me. If the weather was awful, I’d get restless, itching to get out anyway. I vividly remember a day in Oregon when I had a 12-miler scheduled, but the rain was coming down in buckets, the wind was whipping sideways, and it was 42 degrees. Stuck inside, I waited. The moment the rain eased, I threw on my shoes and sprinted out the door, squeezing in 5K on the beach before the downpour returned. At least I didn’t put up a zero.
I know—this sounds compulsive. And I’m not sure every decision I made was wise. Some of my intervals were run straight into a driving rain, and I can’t say they were always productive. But I do believe that not looking for excuses, not putting things off, was part of what allowed me to qualify for 13 straight Boston Marathons. The same mindset helped me get through my UPenn master’s program with straight As. Did I need to hit every workout to qualify for Boston? Probably not. Did I need to study every morning to earn my degree? Certainly not. But I’m certain that if I had missed too many, I wouldn’t have reached my goals.
That’s why yesterday, when I got the distance team together for a rainy run, I wasn’t just trying to be a tough, mean coach. And I wasn’t just thinking about what we might achieve at Leagues in three months. I wanted us to internalize something bigger—the value of consistent effort, even when it’s uncomfortable, even when excuses feel justified. I’m sure that many of our friends would have told us running outside yesterday was nuts. If you told a friend you were taking the day off and skipping track practice, you could find someone to say that seems reasonable. But that’s what separates the dedicated athlete from the rest—we look for reasons to do the work, not for reasons to avoid the work.
Yesterday, it was a rainy run. In the future, it might be something else. A writer won’t always feel like writing—but if they can sit down and force out a couple of pages, even if they rewrite everything tomorrow, they’ve made progress. A scientist waiting on materials to arrive for an experiment might use the downtime to prep or clean up the lab—so when the time comes, they’re ready. High performers have a compulsion to move forward, even in imperfect conditions. I’m pretty sure that Angela Duckworth would agree that this kind of persistence is an expression of personal grit; and grit is a predictor of outstanding achievements in academics, arts, sciences…and yes, athletics.
So, running in the rain wasn’t just about logging miles. It was about reinforcing the habit of progress—tiny, incremental steps toward our goals, even when conditions aren’t ideal. Not just for our running, but for the bigger goals ahead in life.
Look for ways to say, “Yes! Let’s do it,” instead of, “eh, tomorrow is good enough.”
Oh, and one more thing.
Running in the rain is kinda fun.
