I promise that this space will not be about running every week until the Boston Marathon. There will be weekly updates, but not running stories non-stop.

This week's story more or less wrote itself when what started out as a simple run, turned into something more, much more, at least to me. It was the type of experience that was totally unexpected, but I'll never forget.

After I announced that I was running the Boston Marathon Virtual edition in October, it became harder for me to back out. I have been planning to run in the event for a while, but had been very guarded about who I shared that information with in the event that I lost confidence. Like any big challenge, doubts are always hanging around the periphery.

Without going into the boring details, my marathon training plan involves running three times a week, two shorter runs with a ‘long run’ every weekend. This past weekend the goal was eight miles, next week its nine miles, and so forth, up to about 20 miles in mid-September, and then a tapering off period to conserve energy and allow my body to heal before the race on October 10.

This past week I had the opportunity to attend a ‘hybrid’ conference in Arizona. About half the participants, including me, actually went to Scottsdale, the other attendees were ‘virtual.’

Unsure about running a long distance in the heat, I packed my running gear hoping to be able to run the planned eight miles in the desert. But with a daytime temp that I expected to be 100+ (a dry heat), I wasn’t certain I could stick to my goal. Failure to do so, might back up my training another week. 

With some discipline, that came from who knows where, there I was at 4:30 in the morning, next to the bell stand at the hotel, doing my stretching. I identified the first obstacle to reaching my goal: it wasn’t the heat it was the darkness. (Great metaphor?)

I noticed, as I completed my stretching and being the observant type, that it was pitch dark. 

It is pitch dark because, apparently, streetlights have not been invented yet, or at least have not come to this part of Scottsdale. 

It has also been raining for two days and there was still a cloud cover. (Let me rephrase: there have been two days of thunderstorms, with 60 mph winds. More than 20 trees on the resort grounds are down, blocking driveways, walkways and roads. The poolside cabanas are no longer poolside. They are in the pool).

Nonetheless, I created about a 1 mile loop around the hotel neighborhood and I nervously started my eight mile run with a water bottle, a towel, and my iPhone & earbuds. The first lap was a breeze, except for the darkness. No really, there was a nice breeze too. I admit I didn’t avoid all the puddles, and I did take a wrong turn because I couldn’t see the street signs, but no big deal.  

At mile two, I felt a drop, and said out loud: ‘Oh, oh.” You know the feeling? Seconds later the skies opened. Yep, Mr. Dedication: running in the dark in the pouring rain are perfect conditions for someone straddling the brave or stupid line. I continued running through the driving rain and the previously referenced ‘breeze’ was pushing water in my face with authority. I did not feel like singing in the rain, since it was stinging in the rain.

When the rain stopped about a mile and half later, my clothing was completed soaked, not to mention my squishy shoes. I wasn’t going to have to worry about heat on this run. But as I pressed on, for some reason, my shirt seemed like it was ten pounds heavier as it clung to my body. It was actually really uncomfortable running with that much water and that much weight on me.

So, I made one of the boldest decisions of my life-no hyperbole. I decided to run, gulp, without a shirt. Gasp from the audience? Gasp from me! If you’ve spent decades NEVER taking your shirt off in public, you know what a big deal this was.

I slowly pulled my shirt off, carefully draped it on a utility box at a corner of the property, looked around and ran free of earthly bounds, well free of upper body earthly bounds anyway. Remember, it was still dark and there weren’t likely to be too many nuts running after a rainstorm at 5:00 am, so I thought my daring exploit was not likely to cause much of a stir.

Now, I know probably half the readers are not allowed to run without a top, and my intention isn’t to make you jealous. Rather, I share this detail because it is the most unlikely thing that could have happened to me. It was unplanned for, undreamed of, and unbelievable. I was a little shocked at my daring-do.

But, I have to tell you I felt pretty good when I glanced down at my body, not great, but pretty good. Not close to a six-pack in the ab category, but satisfied that the work I was putting in had paid off and would continue to pay off.

The revelation I had as I was running (half-naked for me) in the dark, still soaking wet, about 3 miles into an 8 mile run, on Mockingbird Lane in Scottsdale, Arizona was: I knew I could finish a marathon. If I could run in the rain this early and without a shirt, I could do anything. 

That’s not really what I thought. 

What I thought was, if I had the dedication to get up at 4 am while attending a conference, and run through the rain, and my conditioning had improved to the point where I could run without a shirt, then I possessed the determination and fitness to achieve my goal. 

As I was in this reverie, just after daylight a runner with a long blonde pony-tail who couldn’t run without a top approached me running in the opposite direction. We smiled and waved at each other, the way you’d expect two nuts running that early on wet roads through puddles would do.

After we passed and I realized that I had actually been observed shirtless by another person and that person didn’t laugh or point at me (that I know of), I came to the conclusion that I was not that far from being officially cool.

For the record, I finished the eight-mile run in an hour and 48 minutes, at about the same pace I plan to run for in the marathon. I probably could have done a couple of more miles. I never claimed to be fast. Isn't there a story about a tortoise and a hare somewhere?

I picked up my wet shirt from the utility box and walked back to my room, feeling like I had accomplished more than I anticipated.

So not only was it a good training run, and not only am I still on track in my plan, but I ended the run with the kind of confidence you can only get in the dark, in the rain, without a shirt. More fun than singing in the rain.

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