Thursday, September 30, 2010

a little story about an uneventful run

This morning I woke up to see rain pouring down. Pouring. I reasoned I couldn't go running in that, so I went back to sleep.

When I woke up again, the rain had stopped, and I couldn't think of another excuse, so I headed out. Wet, overcast mornings like this are a gift in the park. Everything is cooled from the rain, the colors are saturated, and few people are out.

A break in the weather never lasts long and I ran my last mile in a light shower. I didn't mind; it made me feel hardcore.

The humidity is completely out of control*. After finishing the last few blocks with my right eye completely shut, I swore I'd start wearing my sweatband again, despite how I look wearing it. If you've never had the pleasure of having sweat and rainwater pour into your eyes, let me describe it: it's like having sweat and rainwater pour into your eyes.

I didn't even pause to stretch before I jumped in the shower. This happens a lot, and it's usually weather related. The winter is the worst--when the sweat has cooled during my one block cool down, and by the time I get in my apartment I feel like I'll never be warm again, and the last thing I'm thinking about is stretching my hamstrings.

I stretched after my shower, but, it was a bit of a poor effort**.

Then I ate breakfast and looked out my window. These photos are evidence of that.

I did other things today--maybe not as many things as I should, but a few other things. This included going to the grocery store and coming out with a box of peanut butter captain crunch.

I've already had two bowls.

*Tyson and I were discussing how the humidity makes everything feel creepily moist. He aptly described the horror of climbing into bed and discovering you have cave sheets.

**and this is part of the reason why I see my very own podiatrist.

2 comments:

  1. I never stretch after I run anymore. I come home and get sucked into life. If you were my neighbor I would stretch. I would run and then do yoga in the park. It would be like a dream, or maybe like deja vu.

    ReplyDelete
  2. That would be a dream. A dreamy dream. My motivation only lasts while I'm running; I get home and remember how lazy I am in real life and don't stretch.
    Also, if we were neighbors...I don't know, there's an unlimited amount of things we would do.

    ReplyDelete