I ran in an oven today.

It was 87 degrees, but what was I to do? Not run? Pssh. I won’t go into excruciating detail, but:
1. 87 degrees and a decent amount of my route was unshaded.
2. Brief bit of trails
3. I drank about 60 oz of water from my bottle, refilling it, and from the fountain.
4. For the last two miles or so (out of about 10, maybe 9 – not sure because of the unmapped trail section), I realized I should have just stayed home. My legs weren’t getting any kind of workout because I was going so slowly and I had a water baby (like a food baby, but with water) from gulping down cold fountain water 3 miles out and why did I run today, it’s not even worth it.
5. Basically, all my run accomplished was pissing me off.

But now I’m sitting in front of a fan and stretching my ankles a bit and consumed MORE water and gatorade, and life is looking a little better. As always – glad I went out.

What I felt like I was running in. Note: people who do the Death Valley ultra are on a whole different plane of masochism.
 

peace love and running!
bec

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