Wet, Wild & Worth It – Running in Rainy Weather with the Right Mindset

Trail running isn’t just a sport—it’s an adventure. You head into the mountains, not a stadium. You take on a route, not a lap. You follow ribbons, not rails. And with all that freedom comes a truth that every trail runner learns eventually: the mountain doesn’t care about your plans. But it can be Wet, Wild & Worth It.

That unpredictability is part of the magic. But it’s also why running in bad weather—especially rain—deserves respect, awareness, and preparation. Whether you’re standing at the start line of a 12km at the Harties River Trail or gearing up for the full 80km Harties Loop, your mindset around conditions can be the difference between an epic run and a dangerous situation.

We've been luck enough to not have a rainy event. Tomorrow, not so much.

Knowing the Race

Before every race, I start with the course. I pull up the map and ask myself: How remote is this route? Where are the exit points? Could someone realistically fetch me if something went wrong? I’m not expecting the event crew to be my safety net—but I want to be aware. It’s about understanding risk.

With Harties Trail Experience, for example, we’re not just popping around the dam—we’re heading up into the ridgeline of the Magaliesberg. That’s real mountain terrain, with changing weather, steep drop-offs, and limited access for rescue. It’s not just scenic. It’s serious.

I also think about elevation and altitude. Big altitude differences usually come with their own set of problems—cloud cover, drop in visibility, and sudden weather changes. If you’ve ever been caught in a white-out up there, you know how quickly it goes from trail race to survival challenge.

Understanding My Body

Then it gets personal. I think about core temperature. Most runners will build up around 6°C of internal heat while running. So if it’s a warm rainy day—say 21°C—I’m good to run without a rain jacket. I’m warm, I’m moving, I’m fine.

But drop that to 18°C with rain? My jacket is coming along, even if it’s just in the pack. That’s mountain rule number one: Always carry your jacket.

Between 14°C and 18°C, things get trickier. That’s the danger zone. I might start without a jacket if I know I’ll be pushing hard, but I make sure it’s close. Once you’re cold and wet and you slow down, your core temp drops fast—and fast is how hypothermia works.

If it’s 10°C to 14°C and wet, I start with the jacket on. No questions asked.

Worst-Case Thinking Isn’t Negative. It’s Smart.

It’s easy to think, “This will be a two-hour 21km race. I’ll be in and out. I don’t need the jacket.” But what if it’s not? What if I tweak my ankle 8km in? Now it’s a four-hour ordeal. I’m wet. I’m not moving. And I didn’t pack my rain jacket.

That’s when danger hits. Not just for me—but for everyone else too.

Because when one runner goes into trouble, the ripple starts: other runners might stop to help, organizers need to step in, and in a worst-case, we’re pulling in mountain search and rescue. That’s not just inconvenient—that’s taking trained volunteers away from their families because I didn’t want to carry an extra 200 grams.

Hypothermia Doesn’t Announce Itself

The scary thing about hypothermia is that it sneaks in. You’re not suddenly shivering uncontrollably. It starts with small things—slowing down, clumsy movements, foggy thoughts. Once it hits hard, bouncing back isn’t easy. In fact, it’s almost impossible on your own.

So this isn’t about being soft or scared. It’s about being smart. A little preparation keeps you moving forward safely—and lets you actually enjoy the run, even when the skies open up.

We’re In This Together

As the person behind the Harties Trail Experience, I’m not just thinking like a runner—I’m thinking like a race organizer too. And I want you to know: we’re constantly thinking about the worst-case scenarios. Not because we expect them to happen—but because we know they can.

For you to have a great race experience, we have to think three steps ahead. Your safety, and the safety of the people around you, is part of every single decision we make. From aid station placement to mandatory gear lists to how we respond when things go sideways—we’re doing it with your well-being in mind.

So when we say “carry the rain jacket,” it’s not just a suggestion. It’s a mindset. It’s mutual respect between runner and mountain, runner and crew. And it’s how we all get to keep showing up, week after week, chasing trails together.