03.16.08
Posted in The Blog of Jabaut at 7:23 pm by Jason
Yesterday afternoon on a rainy run with Joan (my first run back after an awful week-long fight with the flu), I ran through every muddy puddle in my path. Dirt splotches dressed the back of my legs up to the middle of my back. When I arrived home and toweled off, I thought back to high school and a quirky tradition that was one of my favorites.
At Seton Catholic High School in Plattsburgh, NY, we had a tradition of dirtying our shoes. If anyone on the team showed up in brand new running shoes, shiny and unworn, then they were subject to at least one muddy scuff from every other member on the team. To illustrate, if I was guilty of clean shoes, I would have to stand patiently while the other athletes formed a line and one-by-one wiped the bottom of their shoes on the top of mine. Veterans on the team were accustomed to this practice and enjoyed it. But NEW members of the team were consistently incredulous. At times we would have to chase kids and catch them to enforce the tradition. Was this hazing? Probably.
I’m assuming that this tradition began with our assistant coach, Jack “George” Wilson, husband to our head coach, Gayle. Our Athletic Director, Mr. Ryan, enforced a school-wide rule that athletes could not call their coach by his / her first name. I think Mr. Ryan’s intent was for us to call Jack by the more formal name of Mr. Wilson, but “George” was born instead.
George sent us on all sorts of muddy runs. I began my auspicious running career knowing one thing for certain: mud equaled pride. The dirtier I was when I came back from a run, the prouder was George.
Today, I ran through even more puddles than yesterday, purposefully seeking them out. Somewhere along my filthy run, I wondered how many people miss out on this joy? I’m 26 years-old and have a wonderful way to reconnect with not only my high school days, but I can go all the way back to being 5 years-old and the simple happiness of splashing through a puddle. If you’re missing out, then I suggest getting your shoes dirty.
Are you a puddle runner? I am.
Thanks, George.
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Sarah Hallenbeck said,
March 16, 2008 at 8:39 pm
I’m a puddle runner, too! When the Carrboro High School team ran regionals this fall on a very muddy and rainy day, Jay and I made them do a stride through a deep puddle before the race began. They really got into it. Parents were horrified, I think, but we figured that the stride would eliminate the shock of cold water when the race actually began. Sure enough, when the gun went off, we could see some of the other athletes hesitate and then register surprise when their feet hit the water. Our kids sailed through like a bunch of seasoned pros
Diana said,
March 17, 2008 at 7:51 am
New shoes were also a no-no in my high school, except we didn’t have that formal initiation. It was up to the individual to find the closest puddle (or the dustiest trial during the summer) and “break in” the new shoes. As for running through puddles, it rains a lot in NorCal during the fall/winter and I can remember many a run where teammates would try to splash each other as they purposely ran through puddles (I stopped trying because I always got myself more wet than my target!). There is something freeing about it — if you’re already wet, who cares if you get more wet and muddy?!
Tori said,
March 17, 2008 at 12:45 pm
I love puddle running! Sometimes, I go back and forth on this, but there IS nothing like the free feeling you get when running through puddles like a five-year old….that childish, giggling, freedom is one of the things that makes running so great! I love the rules that can be broken once you’ve gone through that initial puddle - swerving all over the trail/road to hit every puddle you pass, splashing your teammates, wearing swimming googles if it’s raining (yes, we’ve done this too…), or emitting squeals of glee as you leap into the water.
And then you get to put newspapers in your shoes when you get home! Does anyone else do this?
My coach at BU always told us to dry them out this way, but I never really thought it worked very well when I was up there. However, I did it down here and it worked great!
Sometimes in the gym or on the road, I see people with these broken-in, worn, dirty shoes that could only get that way with some serious puddle jumping or mud-running sessions and I aspire (envy) to have their shoes. They look great, like an old, best friend (maybe that is one explanation for the line of “dead” shoes along my bedroom wall).
Oh the nostalgia of Spring….
George said,
March 17, 2008 at 10:15 pm
I’m a puddle runner also. One of the many good things about running is running in the rain. Remember when you were a little kid & you were outside when it started to rain? What did your Mom yell at you? “Come in out of the rain!”
Well now getting your daily mileage in has to happen; neither rain, sleet, or snow! So now plow ahead, the dirtier the better! Then you also get that little smile on your face when non-runners see you & scratch their heads & mutter something about “those crazy runners”!
George
brent said,
March 17, 2008 at 10:21 pm
i gotta say, i am not a puddle runner. i hate to have wet shoes and don’t want to take the chance…today tyler, victor and i altered our route to avoid a particularly big puddle several times. we agreed that puddles are not our bag, baby!
Tori said,
March 18, 2008 at 9:56 am
ah, but i think there is a difference between sopping shoes like the workout we had at Mason Farms with what I affectionately refer to as the Monsoon, and I couldn’t even see, my shoes were lead. That = no fun. But, slight soppy, wetness that doesn’t really weigh you down…is another story
I think puddle running is all about the pre-meditated state of mind.
George said,
March 18, 2008 at 10:28 am
After rereading Jason’s blog the comment about the “dirt splotches dressed the back of my legs up to the middle of my back” brought back more memories. The higher the splotches on the back the better the heel lift. It was a good indicator of how hard the run was. Lower splotched, slower pace; higher splotches, faster pace. To have them on your back has sort of a badge of honor & we called them “speed”.