I set out to do a 2:30 run yesterday morning, a little later than I intended. Enveloped in humidity when I stepped out the door it was reminiscent of summers spent in Louisiana, and I'm OK with that, for a while.
After my first hour, the intended stop for break where I could chase my gel with cold water at the fitness center ended up being a much needed temperature lowering 45 minutes on the treadmill indoors before making the attempt to run the rest of the 30 minutes home. I had left myself wiggle room to walk jog where needed and expected it to take a little longer. A little turned into 45 minutes - so by the door to door time at home was 2:30 and I was toast, soggy toast.
But by now my new benchmark of course is melted nail polish so by that standard, it wasn't that bad. Sweat drained down from my shorts off my legs and to my socks where it sloshed in my shoes and I was as close to a wet t-shirt contest on a well traveled street as I'll ever be again at 46 and am glad that run is done!
Unbelievably I'm in the down hill slide of preparation, still ramping up distances and time but there is much less time before the race now than when I started this mental and physical journey. 14 weeks at most to go. Yikes! To think that in 8 I'll have had my longest workouts and biggest weeks and be starting to coast a little.
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