Just Remember the Huboobs

I have to run ten miles today. AND it's raining (again!). Which, believe it or not, I don't mind it. I actually like it, despite the fact that we've managed to have several three-day rain storms in the past few weeks. I can thank four years in the dessert for that.

It is amazing what living in a place without rain and water does to you. People have pools and it rains sometimes, in August, during the Monsoon Season. But don't let the title fool you. Arizona's Monsoon Season is really no monsoon at all. It is mostly dust storms, wild dust storms, like a blizzard of sand. There like nothing you've ever experienced before (unless you're born and raised in Arizona). They call them "Huboobs" (which I can identify with, that's what I was thinking when I was running down hill in Saturday's race); if we have several in one week all the radio announcers are all over the "Huboobies." So there's dust, but no rain. And when there is, it is usually a short burst of downpour for ten minutes and then the sun comes back out and you're back to where you were hopping to escape from: unrelenting sunshine (I know! You're thinking: what's wrong with that?!?). Now that we're back in New Hampshire, I like the rain. Even when it comes in excessive amounts and on the day that I'm supposed to run a long run.

I'm glad I did my eight miler in the rain a few weeks ago. It makes any run seem conquerable. And makes me think I'm pretty hard-core (which does wonders for my humility). So today I'll probably head out into the rain and get those ten miles under my belt (which by the way I've been able to ratchet up a couple notches thanks to all this running). Although I DO like the rain, running in it is not my favorite; to keep it all in perspective I'll just imagine that I could be running in a Huboob, and mouth fool of Huboob dust would be way worse than a little rain on my jacket.