It's all fun and games until the tornado sirens go off.

I went on a 17 mile long run this morning.  I thought my pace and splits were pretty good overall, and I am satisfied with the run (even if my calves and knees are not satisfied with me at the moment).

However, the weather during this run can only be described as "completely craptastic."

The weather was grey and rainy when I woke up this morning.  Being a total running pro, I opted to check the weather using a highly technical process of "looking out the window at the current weather and assuming that's the way it would stay for the rest of the day."

That was a dangerous misstep on my part.

I got to my usual trail to do my long run, thinking that the day would stay grey and slightly rainy.  At least that's what I thought until it started pouring at the start of mile 4.

"Just a little rain," I thought.  "No big deal.  It should lighten up in a few minutes."

And it did lighten up to the north of me.

But to the south....

I kept heading east, hoping to dry out somewhat by the time I reached my 8.5 mile turnaround point.  I was at the very end of mile 4 when the tornado sirens went off.  I ran for about a minute, listening to the sirens and wondering what the hell I should do, looking at the sky for crazy cloud rotations as I felt the wind pick up and start blowing me around like a twig.  And then my brain screamed, "CALL YOUR HUSBAND, DUMBASS."

So I did.  And asked him if there was a tornado in my running vicinity.  He said no, and that the sirens were probably just severe weather sirens.  Placated, I got off the phone because it was pouring and continued on my way to my turnaround.

After it stopped pouring, I got out my phone to take this picture of the nicer weather behind me:

And that's when I noticed these little alerts I missed on my phone:

I also saw my husband had left me two voicemails since then, so I called him back while still continuing to run.  He told me to come home.  I told him I was only 1.5 miles from the turnaround, and it looked like it was clearing behind me anyway.  And then he screamed into the phone, "ARE YOU RUNNING WHILE YOU'RE TALKING TO ME?!?  STOP RUNNING AND COME HOME!"

It's hard to explain to a hysterical husband that you are 7 miles away from your car and that "coming home" will require that you run for at least another hour even if you turned around right that second.  The only thing that shot him back into the realm of reason was telling him my only fast option of coming home was to go and hitch a ride with a complete stranger driving down nearby Route 173 who would take pity on a poor runner girl who was soaked to the bone and had a running shirt on that was now slightly see-through because of the rain. 

Even though I reassured him that I would be OK, I pretty much freaked out for the next 5 miles or so, whipping my head around to be completely aware of when the eventual funnel cloud would be bearing down on me.  Expired tornado warnings be damned; a girl has to be prepared.  This is also why I was scouting out potential spots in the ditches that were relatively puddle-free for hiding places if I did spot a funnel cloud.

During that time it had stopped raining, and I was beginning to dry out and feel better.  I was about 3 miles away from my car when the second storm hit--and it was worse than before.  Much worse.  Sideways rain and heavy winds were pelting me from my right.

And then the hail came.  I was forced to run with my head cocked downward and toward the right so my hat would catch the hail, preventing it from poking my eyeballs out (which would make it very hard to run).  While I was busy protecting my eyesight, the hail kept slamming me in that nice soft skin between your thumb and first finger of each hand.

It was out to get me.  But I wouldn't give up.  I gritted my teeth and kept pushing on, thinking that if I could get through this, I could get through anything (including some crazy work stuff that's going on right now).  I also thought that if I could get through this without my iPod electrocuting me, I would be doing pretty damn well too.

I did make it, and was greeted to this sight as I finished my run:

The water was up to my calves, and my feet and shoes were thoroughly soaked--there was no way not to wade through that mess.  I finally made it to my car, where fortunately I had some towels in the back to dry off a little before heading home and hobbling my way into the house.

This, by far, is my most interesting and inclement weather-frought run.  But, like I said before--if I could get through that, I can get through anything.  But next time I'm going to check the weather at an official weather-type site before heading out.

(By the way, my husband has said I am no longer allowed to run after tornado sirens go off.  You'd think it was dangerous or something.)