Today, not having Mister Tristan, the bride and I slept until we wanted to sleep no more. For me, that was about 7:45 AM, as I usually arise on work days at 4:15 AM (ugh!...that's to accommodate a 1-hour commute and a starting time of 6:30).
So I fed the cats, drank some wonderful coffee--a flavor called "Highlander Grog"-- from our local roaster, and was out the door a little after 8. Since running the Umstead 100 Mile Endurance race back at the end of March, I have cut back on my running, and have not run longer than 10 miles.
Today I felt very sluggish, so I immediately was faced with a decision--which direction to run my Pig Farm 10 mile route? See, doing it counterclockwise affords one the opportunity to bail early and end up with about 8.5 miles; clockwise, one is committed to the entire distance.
My legs said go with the bail-out opportunity, but my heart and head said to program for success and commit to 10 up front. So that's what I did.
This was a routine run in all ways, except that I did see one new--and unfortunate critter--a road-killed bat. Must have swooped down after an insect last night and got clobbered by a car.
At the end of the 10 miles I was pleasantly tired but still with some life in my legs. It was great to sit on my front porch while the sweat poured off me, drinking orange juice diluted with flavored club soda--what a great concoction after a run!
Showing posts with label sweat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sweat. Show all posts
Monday, July 5, 2010
Friday, July 2, 2010
Sweat
I love to sweat.
One of life's little pleasures, for me, is to go out on a humid 90 degree day and run an hour or whatever. The kind of day that the weatherman, here in the northeast, refers to as HHH: hazy, hot, and humid. I'm talking the kind of day when my running clothes quickly become totally soaked, sweat drips off my nose, ears, and elbows, and a bandana is essential gear to keep the burning sweat out of my eyes.
Then upon my return home, I sit on the cool bricks of my shady front porch and let the sweat just gush from my pores while I enjoy some lemonade or ice water. I often lay on my back and just enjoy cloud-watching.
By the way, cloud-watching is a highly underrated activity for adults. Mister Tristan is a little young to understand clouds, shapes, etc., but I'll keep pressing the point over the next months and years until that day comes when the light goes on in his brain and he says "I see a bunny in the sky!" or the like. And on that day I will clap my hands because I will have done my job.
One of life's little pleasures, for me, is to go out on a humid 90 degree day and run an hour or whatever. The kind of day that the weatherman, here in the northeast, refers to as HHH: hazy, hot, and humid. I'm talking the kind of day when my running clothes quickly become totally soaked, sweat drips off my nose, ears, and elbows, and a bandana is essential gear to keep the burning sweat out of my eyes.
Then upon my return home, I sit on the cool bricks of my shady front porch and let the sweat just gush from my pores while I enjoy some lemonade or ice water. I often lay on my back and just enjoy cloud-watching.
By the way, cloud-watching is a highly underrated activity for adults. Mister Tristan is a little young to understand clouds, shapes, etc., but I'll keep pressing the point over the next months and years until that day comes when the light goes on in his brain and he says "I see a bunny in the sky!" or the like. And on that day I will clap my hands because I will have done my job.
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