I just dragged myself through the door, kicking off my muddy shoes in the hallway and dripping into the apartment, stripping off wet layers as I went. I ran nine miles in one of just a handful of rain showers L.A. will see in a year.

Saturdays, the Venice boardwalk is normally so crowded I've considered running with a broomstick to beat a path through the tourists, dog walkers and various breeds of rapscallion that flock there. But today, in the rain, the only people on the sidewalk were runners. Even the homeless had sought shelter under overhangs and piers.

You learn things over nine miles in the rain.

1. It is probable that you have lost your mind. No sane person would do this.

2. Other runners will smile and nod in an extra friendly manner. This is probably because we could all use the cheering and because we crazy people have to stick together.

3. That windbreaker you bought at The Gap ten years ago is no longer waterproof.

4. If you time your steps just right, you can make the squishing in your shoes tap out the beat to "Singing in the Rain."

5. That freakin' Chihuahua that usually lunges at you and bares its evil little Satan teeth is too embarrassed by his drowned rat-like appearance to bother. This is a good opportunity to point, laugh and stick out your tongue because while you, too, look like a drowned rat, you are too crazy to care.

6. Homicidal lunatics in large SUVs are paying even less attention to pedestrians than usual. It will take all your self control not to throw yourself on the hood of their cars, pounding your fists on the windshield and screaming about their irresponsibility. On the other hand, you're a crazy person. So all bets are off...

7. It will always stop raining just as you make the turn for home.

Run on, friends. Run on.