Armories, Lobbies, and Other Useful Ways to Avoid the Weather

It was likely the phrase uttered by most of the people in the Washington. It was a subject on everyone’s mind, and it hung like the cloud of its subject as we navigated the people and puddles to pick up our race packets at the marathon expo.

“God, I hope it’s not like this tomorrow.”

I’m referring to the weather on Saturday, of course. I do concede that the phrase was altered in various ways by the time the race rolled around—the most common of which was probably, “It’s a good thing they don’t run these things on Saturdays.” All the preoccupation with the weather was warranted, though, because Saturday stands as a wet, cold reminder of winter on the East Coast.

With my treadmill television stuck at the Weather Channel Saturday morning, I observed how the news coverage made a point to push the snow flurries out of the district. It was almost like they willed it so, to be honest. The line on their forecast screens did not maintain the arbitrary boundary I’m used to, but instead followed the geography of the city limits.

The weather cooperated with this for plan for some time. Waiting under an umbrella outside the Armory, I spoke with Lisa, a teammate from Fleet Feet Racing who regularly runs Marine Corps (MCM). She told of snow outside the city, cars being towed, and a certain degree of wonder at the whole mess Mother Nature seemed to be making. We did our best to stay dry, and were thankful to have the expo, even though it was largely pointless from a runner’s standpoint, since it shielded us from the rain.

We also took refuge in a terrific restaurant and bookstore called Busboys and Poets, a tribute to Langston Hughes and his time spent as, yes, a busboy in a D.C. hotel.

By the time we’d hoofed it to Sara’s apartment, the meaningless lines from the weather report had blown away. From the lobby of her building, we watched as the rain turned to sleet, then ultimately snow. It didn’t stick to the ground, but instead flurried and faded as it saw fit. It continued for most of the afternoon, and when we glanced out the windows from our fourth safe haven, the Portrait Gallery, we were treated to the sight of falling snow.

The winter storm sputtered to a close as we walked to dinner at a fantastic spot called Founding Fathers. We weren’t much paying attention to the weather, however, due to an overwhelming desire to eat everything on the menu. As far as pre-race dinners go, Founding Fathers is second to none. (It’s noteworthy to mention that the waitress did not completely botch the final payment, either.) By the time we exiting the restaurant, the stars were out and the wind had lost some of its consistency.

At one point I may have even said, “I can run in this.” It was a phrase I certainly felt happy to utter.