Get Over Your Fear of Getting Wet!

By Susan Rich

I’ve always been a walker. Growing up in Arizona I used to meander down narrow rock-strewn alleys, sniffing orange blossoms, and petting the dogs in my neighbor’s back yard. I remember the shoes I wore — orange clogs with a red flower pattern and a thin elastic strap around the heel. Short-shorts and a T-shirt over a bikini top completed the ensemble.

I moved to Seattle after college. The month was September, the weather glorious. I traded in the clogs for sneakers, but the rest of my outfit was the same. I went for a walk every day. Seward Park was my favorite spot. I was tan, trim, happy.

Until someone turned out the lights. The cloud cover descended, and it seemed dark all day long. First came the drizzle, then rain, day after day. The ground was damp, the air was chilled, and to my Arizona bones, the idea of walking in the rain was ludicrous.

So I did what any transplanted sunshine-loving gal would do: I waited for the rain to stop, certain I would melt or freeze or get stuck in a puddle before I got my sneakers 10 feet out the front door.

Six months later I was still waiting. Into the early spring and summer months, I stared out the windows, unbelieving, wondering if September had been a fantasy.

The turning point came when a friend said, “If you wait for the rain to stop, you’ll never go anywhere again.”

From drizzly days in Seattle to my current home in deluge-driven Portland, this is what I’ve learned about walking in the rain:Get over your fear of being wet. At least suit up and give it a go. If it’s a fine drizzle to a light shower, a strong wind is not likely, so you won’t get a face full of water. Winter temperatures are fairly moderate because of cloud cover and our geographic location, so if you dress properly, you won’t freeze.

If you are new to the sport and aren’t sure how you’ll do, go easy on yourself. Stay in the neighborhood. Walk around the block a few times. Find a local track and do laps. If you plan an ambitious route, stay near public transit. This way you can bail if the weather turns worse, you get tired, or too cold.

Remember being five? Embrace that inner child and take her for a walk. Jump over (or in) puddles, look at your reflection, open your mouth and catch rain on your tongue. Pick up some leaves, a pretty stone, try to see the world from your five-year-old eyes. Most important, look up. So much of our time is spent staring at the ground or at objects just at eye level. Study the treetops, the way they cling to the gray sky with their naked thorny branches. Notice how rooftops create a jagged skyline, chimney smoke curling, creeping into the sky like a black cat on the prowl.

Take time to think. Bring a notebook. Jot down thoughts when you stop for coffee. Write descriptions using all five senses — leave the tunes at home and let your thoughts strike the rhythm of your feet. Touch leaves dampened by rain, observe how water flares under the fender of a bicycle as it passes by. Hear the laughter of kids playing basketball in the rain, the sloppy thunk of the ball and the airless swoosh it makes as it falls through the net.

Reward yourself — do stop for a cup of coffee, run a hot bath when you get home. Put a gold star on the calendar. In the beginning, getting out the door is what counts — not how far you go.

Walking is a great form of exercise, and it should be fun. If you’re getting wet and cold, try adjusting your clothing and attitude. If you still don’t like it, go home. Don’t force yourself to do something you hate. And remember, it’s only water.

Susan Rich is a freelance writer living in North Portland, OR. She can be contacted at susan@richwriting.com.