A run cut short

My scheduled run today did not go as planned. The main problems were the heat and humidity. It was just too hot this morning. Of course, it may not have been an issue had I started earlier, but I went back to sleep after the alarm went off. And of course I did not have to go back to sleep had I not come home really, really late last night after a night out with my husband and a friend.

When I finally peeled myself off the bed, and changed into my purple spaghetti-strapped tank top and yellow polka dots short shorts, the morning had gotten hotter – much hotter.  But I decided to stick to my running plan anyway. I had run through many hot and humid days before, so this should be no different. So, after drinking my third cup of water, I headed out.

I managed to run only 15 minutes before the heat became unbearable for me. I stopped. That was good. I should have just turned around and walked home. But my senses seemed to have deserted me because I decided to walk the distance I planned to run. I thought “I’ll be walking so it should be no problem, right?” That was one bad idea.

The humidity made moving, even walking, a struggle. There was hardly any breeze. There was hardly any cloud this morning and the sun was scorching down strongly (the river bank was full of scantily clad sun worshippers). At one point, I thought that I was going to faint. I struggled just to put one foot in front of the other.

Luckily for me, at the start of my run, before the heat had the chance to sap my senses, I chose  a route that was dotted with drinking fountains. I stopped at every single one of them, except for one which was surrounded by about 30 (or was it 40 or 50?) boys in baseball outfits elbowing each other to get a sip of water. I also drenched my head, face, neck and nape at every water stop. I have no idea what I looked like!

I don’t know how anyone can move in the heat, but some did. I saw several groups of boys playing baseball and football (soccer), or doing drills. Many of the high school players wore long tights and tight shirts underneath their uniforms (I know because I saw them changing).  Then, I came across runners who wore long-sleeved black compression tops and long black compression tights. They were trotting along at a slug’s pace. I can’t possibly imagine myself going out in the heat fully covered in tight compression regalia. How can they stay cool? I wondered quietly to myself if they were training to race across the Sahara Desert.

When I got back to our apartment, I spent a very, very long time in the air-conditioned lobby, and I’ve lost track of how much water I’ve drunk.

 

 

 

 

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