Weather, as we all know, is predicated on the daily whims of an old white guy laying on a cloud, smacking on his bubble gum and playing with his paddleball. This man is a child at heart and, because of this, is subject to extreme mood swings and public displays of smite.

Running, as we all know, is dependent on weather. If the sun is shining, the pollen count low, and an ambient of around 72 degrees Fahrenheit, there’s a good chance you’ll be more inclined to run. On the other hand, if the Weatherman-baby is in a particularly foul mood and blesses your region with a nor’easter (I’m not sure what those entail, but they seems scary), you’ll probably tighten the ol’ belt on your curiously engineered sweatpants and take the day off.

If given enough time, weather will determine your fitness. Eventually you will run out of your childhood intrinsic motivation that dragged you through winter rainstorms; sooner or later, convincing yourself “at least I’ll have a tail wind for some of this run” will ring truly nonsensical; and, finally, you realize being indoors is pleasant and not painful.

The Breaking2 project has been non-committal on a specific race day because of one reason: weather, baby. That’s right, I’m talking clouds, temperature, humidity, UV index. Hell, I’ll even throw in dew point. It’s all being accounted for. The race execs are goading the Weathermanbaby into granting a weather day so perfect for the marathon that history is made.

Will it happen? Probably. After all, this is just an experiment and I guess it should exist in a vacuum of perfect conditions. But should it? Absolutely not. The greatest performances are always under the duress of terribly violent weather.

 

Battle of Pride Rock from Lion King.

Simba and Scar going mano a mano in what appears to be 273-degree kelvin, all while a fire rages below and sparks are being kicked around. THINK OF HOW DRY THE AIR MUST HAVE BEEN. I’m sure both could have used a nasal strip, but they forged on through the less-than-desirable weather and produced one of the most memorable scenes in cinematic history. If you asked any runner to race through flames and ungodly dry air they would most likely say, “no, thanks” way too politely.

Any war scene from any movie involving war

War is a messy affair. The pre-, during, and post- sections of all wars involve mess. Whether it’s a bureaucracy mess, a diplomacy mess or an armistice mess. It’s a big pile of mess. But, I’ll be damned if you tell me there aren’t some beautifully inspiring performances that come from the battlefield: the messiest mess there is. I’ve heard runners and coaches equate racing to war. That’s stupid mostly because it isn’t. Battlefields are windy, rainy, dusty, and full of limbs. Cross country courses are manicured golf course where you get to lay down after running hard for 30-minutes. Beautifully inspiring performances aren’t made on a par-4 17th hole, they’re made sprinting through a fox tunnel, having shrapnel poured over your position, all while being hailed on.

William Henry Harrison from His Inauguration Speech

Harrison died 31 days into his term as our ninth President of the United States. His premature death was due in part to many things: an extremely busy schedule, septic shock from poor-quality drinking water in Washington, D.C., and by giving the most badass inauguration speech during inclement weather. This man literally died for his country. He caught a cold after a night of rabble-rousing, gutted out a month of presidency, and then died in office. Somehow, applications of castor oil, opium oil, leeches, and Virginia snakeweed could not cure this gravely-ill man, and he died nine days after he fell ill. A noble performance, nonetheless. You can’t tell a story like that if all you did was race in perfect weather conditions. I want to hear about someone becoming president, racing through chilly weather, catching a cold and dying due to poor medical advice with a mix of antiquated knowledge.