The (Running) Troubles, Part 5
A couple weeks ago, when I was hanging up the running pants I wore all summer, I noticed more size details below the waist tag. Printed on the fabric beneath the Brooks logo was “FOR WOMEN.”
Shit. All winter I inadvertently wore women’s running pants. Though it is probably a new low for me, I will say the pants did their job and kept me warm, regardless of the fact they are apparently made for women. (I have no clue why they would be made for women, but I am, obviously, no clothing expert.) Needless to say, I will not be wearing them again anytime soon.
There is no reason I should put this delicately: it is hot as balls today. And yet, I was foolish enough to run.
A cold April turned into a decent May, and June has brought an earlier than usual swelter. Today is your run of the mill Iowa summer steam cooker. The air is thick with moisture, giving the verdant foliage and the barren pavement a bright sheen of, “It is really fucking hot.” You know it is hot when it looks hot. It is the kind of day where everyone needs to stay cool and hydrated. And maybe postpone a run to another, cooler, day.
I wanted to get up and run at 6:30 this morning. That did not happen. For whatever reason, I just cannot make myself start the day at a semi-regular time. Since I do not have to commute or even get ready for work, there is no reason for me to get up before 8 a.m. I roll out of bed, put on basketball shorts and a t-shirt, and start working at my computer with a serious case of bedhead. (My tossing and turning usually sculpts my hair into something suitable for A Flock of Seagulls music video.) So this morning I laid in bed and snoozed to the sounds of KRNA as the coolest part of the day passed.
Bad idea.
After clearing out the journal inboxes, I walked down to Bates Field at 10 a.m. and proceeded to sweat my ass off.
It boggles my mind why chicks sunbathe at a place like College Green or City Park. I don’t mind the view they provide, but I don’t understand the point of it. If they really want a tan that badly, I don’t see why they don't run five miles on an outdoor track.
Though I expected not to tan as darkly as I did in California, I have been proven wrong. Since it warmed enough to run in shorts and a t-shirt, the sun has toasted my exposed skin to a pretty decent bronze. Those sorority chicks at College Green have nothing on me — and they are actually trying to tan. However, beneath the cover of my shorts and t-shirt I am as pasty white as the day I was born. Regardless, the lack of any cover at the track allows the sun to tan and roast you from above, while the (new) black asphalt cooks you from below.
I picked a bad day to chain together two five-minute runs for four 10-minute blocks of running. I only rested for about 50 seconds between blocks. The first block was fine, but after the second the heat was starting to get to me. I was burning up. After running home to take a piss, I ran back and made a pit stop at the glorious track-side spigot. I took a long drink from the hose and let the water run over my head. Slightly refreshed, I finished off my 40 minutes and then revisited the spigot for another drink and douse.
Though I do an excellent job of keeping myself hydrated when not running, I have not even attempted in-run hydration. It is something I need to work on, especially when I am down in Little Cedar Rapids. (FYI: there are no water fountains in the long creekside park where the Kickers fields used to be.) Heat like this can kill a runner if he is not well-hydrated or prepared, and I sometimes fear I push the envelope in the summer. I don’t want to stop running or compromise my carefully timed routine, but there are times, like today, when I need to.
With the advent of hot and humid summer heat, I have successfully run (literally) the gamut of Iowa’s seasons. Long gone are the days of constant spring and not having to worry about ice, insane cold, or incredible humidity, but at least I know none of them will keep me from running.
Shit. All winter I inadvertently wore women’s running pants. Though it is probably a new low for me, I will say the pants did their job and kept me warm, regardless of the fact they are apparently made for women. (I have no clue why they would be made for women, but I am, obviously, no clothing expert.) Needless to say, I will not be wearing them again anytime soon.
There is no reason I should put this delicately: it is hot as balls today. And yet, I was foolish enough to run.
A cold April turned into a decent May, and June has brought an earlier than usual swelter. Today is your run of the mill Iowa summer steam cooker. The air is thick with moisture, giving the verdant foliage and the barren pavement a bright sheen of, “It is really fucking hot.” You know it is hot when it looks hot. It is the kind of day where everyone needs to stay cool and hydrated. And maybe postpone a run to another, cooler, day.
I wanted to get up and run at 6:30 this morning. That did not happen. For whatever reason, I just cannot make myself start the day at a semi-regular time. Since I do not have to commute or even get ready for work, there is no reason for me to get up before 8 a.m. I roll out of bed, put on basketball shorts and a t-shirt, and start working at my computer with a serious case of bedhead. (My tossing and turning usually sculpts my hair into something suitable for A Flock of Seagulls music video.) So this morning I laid in bed and snoozed to the sounds of KRNA as the coolest part of the day passed.
Bad idea.
After clearing out the journal inboxes, I walked down to Bates Field at 10 a.m. and proceeded to sweat my ass off.
It boggles my mind why chicks sunbathe at a place like College Green or City Park. I don’t mind the view they provide, but I don’t understand the point of it. If they really want a tan that badly, I don’t see why they don't run five miles on an outdoor track.
Though I expected not to tan as darkly as I did in California, I have been proven wrong. Since it warmed enough to run in shorts and a t-shirt, the sun has toasted my exposed skin to a pretty decent bronze. Those sorority chicks at College Green have nothing on me — and they are actually trying to tan. However, beneath the cover of my shorts and t-shirt I am as pasty white as the day I was born. Regardless, the lack of any cover at the track allows the sun to tan and roast you from above, while the (new) black asphalt cooks you from below.
I picked a bad day to chain together two five-minute runs for four 10-minute blocks of running. I only rested for about 50 seconds between blocks. The first block was fine, but after the second the heat was starting to get to me. I was burning up. After running home to take a piss, I ran back and made a pit stop at the glorious track-side spigot. I took a long drink from the hose and let the water run over my head. Slightly refreshed, I finished off my 40 minutes and then revisited the spigot for another drink and douse.
Though I do an excellent job of keeping myself hydrated when not running, I have not even attempted in-run hydration. It is something I need to work on, especially when I am down in Little Cedar Rapids. (FYI: there are no water fountains in the long creekside park where the Kickers fields used to be.) Heat like this can kill a runner if he is not well-hydrated or prepared, and I sometimes fear I push the envelope in the summer. I don’t want to stop running or compromise my carefully timed routine, but there are times, like today, when I need to.
With the advent of hot and humid summer heat, I have successfully run (literally) the gamut of Iowa’s seasons. Long gone are the days of constant spring and not having to worry about ice, insane cold, or incredible humidity, but at least I know none of them will keep me from running.
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