Sweaty As She Goes

Today’s run was brought to you by the letters O, M, and G, and the colour red.

I looked at the weather, and it said 27º (Celcius for you non-metric folks), so I happily donned my running gear for a lunch run. I laced up, popped my music into my ears, and then stepped outside.

I suppose I had forgotten to look at the wee tiny number underneath the big temperature display, where it said “feels like 34º”. I set off, the heat baking my lower legs and I thought “Hmm, should I worry about this? Nahhh… I’ll be ok”. It felt hot, but I was also keen to move. Also, I was commited. If I walked back into the office without a red face and some sweat, I would look silly.

Four interval sets later, I was quite sure I had gone legally insane, attempting to run outside when you could bake cookies in your carSolar Oven. I was aching, my shirt was soaked, my feet were screaming in pain, and I kept repeating the mantra “be comfortable with being uncomfortable” so that I would not collapse onto the ground in exhaustion, giving into my body. I knew if I did collapse, I would make that sound a wet towel does when it hits tile at a high velocity. Eww. I would silently “WOO HOO!” every time a walk segment came up, and for that one beautiful, precious minute, I could gasp spasmodicallyregain my breath before I had to jog again. Talk test? What talk test?

Today’s pacing was brought to you by the number 0, as in none. Hoo boy, I was all over the map. I walked the last jog segment, then walked back to the office. I was done. Shaking, seeing tiny spots, and so soaked in sweat my eyes were stinging. Every park bench beckoned me. Every shady tree echoed its siren call across to me. “Sit! Sit! Sit!”

Every step on my run today was earned. I had to force every single one. So mentally exhausting. Unbelievably tiring, and frustrating. I want to have a good run, but it is proving elusive.

I met no runners today, like I normally do (they are all sane and running on a treadmill inside or just not running). I met only slow-talky walkers in their business clothes and much-too-clean runners, meandering the path on their lunch break, drinking from two litre bottles of water. I got stopped and asked for directions four times. It seems it was “ask-the-red-faced-fat-girl-for-directions” day. Annoying, but also not that bad because it meant I had to stop, and that was a break.

Note to self: Turn on auto-pause for Runkeeper.

The one saving grace, and the reason I did not collapse was this: I had my water bottle, which I emptied. Oh, maybe there was two… there was a breeze on the river, and I stopped after the 5th interval and just leant into it, hat and sunglasses off, eyes closed. It felt better than chocolate, I swear! And that is really, really good, if you know how much I love chocolate.

It felt so good, I did not even notice my hat dripping sweat onto my knee.

I wrang it out before I put it back on.

Eww.

 

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