I ran in the rain last Friday (about 4 miles), and again on Tuesday (also 4 miles). While I didn’t like how loose my phlegm was as a result, and especially I didn’t like how it tried to choke me, I loved running in the gutters as if I were running in a stream.

Wednesday (5 miles), and more so today (6.21 miles in 1:08:10), I was missing an aspect of running in the rain I never really thought about before. Rather than having to wipe sweat off my head and face every so often, when I’m running in the rain, if I’m wiping my head it’s not because I’m swallowing sweat: I’m just too wet and can’t see clearly.

¶ Today my run took me past the sites of two of the auto-auto accidents I have been in where at least one vehicle was totaled. Located on the same road, separated by 1.3 miles geographically, and by a score and two years temporally, together they are both the first and the most recent auto-auto accidents I have been in. It was an interesting point of reflection. The first accident could have been prevented had the light that is there now been there at the time.

Late night view of the mess of red and green lights on 5400 S.

The most recent could have been prevented had there not been so many lights as to cause confusion: when you make everything important, nothing is important. Can you pick out the traffic light at the intersection? Neither could the other driver. That light is red, but good luck figuring that out at 45 mph in daylight. That is in fact the intersection where this most recent accident happened.

Taking a slight departure from running, the design of these lights was in need of serious help. There needed to be at most six lights across the three flex lanes, one per side. The far left and far right lanes are always normal lanes. Not only would this have saved money, reduced light pollution, and decreased maintenance costs, it would make the stretch of 5400 S that has flex lanes less dangerous, by not obscuring the regular traffic signals. Returning to running, somewhere beyond the last flex light, there is a hill down to the Jordan River. It was at the intersection of the road next to the river where that first accident occurred. It was also going up that hill on the south side of the road that I had my first official track workout in 9th grade when running for MHS. Back then I hated that workout. It’s still a rough one, but tonight it helped that I remembered to make my hamstrings do some of the heavy lifting up the hill, making it much more enjoyable in the present. Just wait until I go up and down repeatedly; I’m quite certain I’ll be changing my tune.