Top 5 Worst Weather Races

it wasn't embarassment that had my cheeks so red. Read on to find out the reason from the 2019 March race.

Stunning blue skies greeted me the morning of October 8, 2017 when I returned to competitive racing. Indeed, the weather could not have been better with a bright sun burning off the morning chill. Those near-perfect conditions unearthed cherished memories of Autumn races from my youth, reigniting a fire that had lain dormant far too long.

Since that day, I’ve averaged eleven races per year, looping in every month except January.  Needless to say, not every one of those races has occurred under such pristine conditions.  Truth is, more often than not, weather plays a vital role in my races.

But that’s also part of the experience.  As runners, we are expected to fight our way through various aches and pains, dig deep to make it up those steep hills and persevere through rain or heat or wind or whatever challenges Mother Nature hurls into our path.  

Then again, there are those occasions when the weather goes full "Fatal Attraction Glenn Close," refusing to be ignored, making the race that much more arduous, more exhausting.  Even to the point of wanting to surrender and drop out.  Today’s post is about five of the most challenging weather races I’ve experienced since jumping back into the competitive running pool.

Rick’s Top 5 Worst Weather Races

My 50's Elvis hair curl was courtesy of heavy thunderstorms prior to this race.

Honorable Mention

2018 Dam to Dam.  Although not as ultimately difficult as those in the Top 5, the final year of the Dam to Dam went out with a bang.  Actually, it went out dozens of very loud bangs as a huge storm cell invaded central Iowa, unleashing intense thunderstorms with torrential rain.  Participants were already soaked just getting into the buses that delivered us to the starting line at Sailer Dam outside of Des Moines.  Even with a plastic poncho, it was as if I’d jumped into the deep end of a swimming pool while wearing my running clothes when that race started.  The storms moved on after the first quarter of the 20K race, replaced by a stiff, warm wind blowing into our faces the rest of the way.  Most any other time, that wind would have proved a detriment. But on that day, it dried everyone off so that the only lingering remnants of that nasty storm were wet socks and bad hair.

5. 2018 Red Flannel.  My first experience with this race proved a memorable one.  The first warning bell should have sounded with me when I had to shovel several inches of messy, wet snow so that I could get out my own driveway.  This being only my fourth race back, I really had no idea of my pace for the five miles ahead of me.  As a result, I took off slower than need be.  Which would not have typically been a problem, except that they had plowed a narrow path through the snow for the runners.  Stepping outside that path to pass anyone meant venturing into that snow where finding traction proved nearly impossible.  After several near falls, I grudgingly accepted my fate, trudging along with everyone else for the duration.  At least the 5K runners left us some warm soup afterwards.

4.  2021 Dam to Des Moines.  This race underscores why it’s the only time since returning to competitive running that I’ve done a race in August.  Although typically scheduled for early June, COVID delays pushed this one back several weeks where runners were greeted with temps at 75 degrees (and 95% humidity) at 7 am.  Nor was there wind sufficient to ruffle a daisy petal.  Instead, we experienced 20 kilometers of hot, sticky air, leaving all of us exhausted as well as completely saturated with sweat when we reached a finish line that felt as if it would never appear.

And this was less than a mile into Des Moine's final Leprechaun Chase.

3.  2019 Leprechaun Chase.  This race no longer takes place in Des Moines.  Which is a shame.  I truly enjoy running 10-kilometer races.  It’s called a “chase” because the women start three minutes before the men.  That means the “laddies” spend the race “chasing the lassies.”  A cute concept.  Except on this particular Saturday afternoon in mid-March, the skies opened up just as the women took off, leaving us guys standing in a heavy downpour of cold winter rain for three minutes before we could even start.  The rain continued non-stop until the final half mile when it reverted to ginormous flakes of snow.  Despite being cold and soaked, I had intended on a mile cool down as per my coach’s plan.  Only my first step inadvertently took me into a pothole where my foot plunged ankle deep into cold, icy water.  That was it for me.  No cool down.  No free beer afterwards.  Just home where I took perhaps the longest shower I’ve ever taken in my life so that I would feel warm again.  (And this apparently wasn’t as bad as the previous year where an ice storm caused them to change the race to a 5K.  That was all the race sponsors needed to know to determine that Des Moines wasn’t meant for the Leprechaun Chase.)

2.    2022 Red Flannel.  The show must go on.  That’s what I told myself on that miserably frigid February morning with single digit temps.  "It’s only a 5K.  I can handle that," I kept mumbling to myself.  But, with wind chills dropping temps to -19, this became the first race where the only warmth I felt were brief seconds with the sun hitting the back of my dark thermal running top and tights.  Beyond that, all I knew was a constant numbing cold, biting into me for the entire race.  What kept me going was indeed the realization that the race was only three miles and that warm soup inside the downtown Des Moines YMCA awaited me.  Were it not for the mess it would have created, I would have just poured that soup over me.  

"Worst. Race. Ever!"

1.  2023 St. Paddy’s Half Marathon.  Although the previous race was a tick colder, this mid-March misadventure takes the top spot on this infamous list because being a half marathon meant I had to endure the polar temps for over three times as long as I had that previous year.  An absolutely wicked 17 mph wind sliced through double and triple layers of clothing and gloves.  My fingers throbbed before I’d reached a half-mile of my warmup.  That painful numbing only worsened with the start of the race, strongly tempting me to take a quick left where I’d only be a few blocks from my SUV and the warmth of home.  Best I could do was pull my fingers into a fist inside my gloves.  Doing so prevented me from being able to use my Garmin to check paces.  Not that it mattered.  My involuntary shivering irritated my IT band, forcing me to walk most of the return trip.  Adding insult to injury, even taking water at various stops meant spitting out pieces of ice. While hindsight has me typically pleased that I endured the various challenges of each race, I can’t honestly say I’m sure continuing this was a good idea.  If faced with a similar choice in the future, I may just opt out.

What about you?  Part of being a runner are experiences such as the ones I’ve shared.  Let me know some of yours either in the comments below or on Facebook.

This smile disappeared the moment I realized that I'd have to go back outside again to make the three block walk to my vehicle after this frigid experience.