Whew! Well, sports fans, spring just sprung right into summer in this neck of the woods. About two hours before I started my jog, this is what I ripped off weather.com - and it didn't get any cooler:
Oh, it only feels like 81°, huh? My car said it was 85° when I pulled over at the Lake Mercer parking lot. Because I knew it was gonna be warm, I hydrated like a fiend starting clear back at 10 am. I drank over 50 ounces. Soon I was feeling like an accountant:
"Debit Drinking Water, one pint and zero point nine ounces."
"Credit Restroom, one pint and zero point nine ounces."
So, after ages, my Garmin found a satellite and I was ready to rock and roll. You know, if it never did find a satellite, I'd probably still be sitting there thinking "C'mon, little buddy!". Naturally I started out too fast ... not crazy fast, but given the temperature and the fact that I went 4.5 miles Saturday, it just wasn't overly great. My breathing was labored, and slowing down didn't much seem to help it even though my heart rate was good (always in Zone 4).
At around three-quarters of a mile, I saw three deer standing next to the trail. The deer to my left joined his friends on the right of me. They were practically within punching distance, but they weren't intimidated. At first I thought this: "Oh, these wise creatures understand that I'm the salt of the earth." Then I thought this: "Oh, it's a popular trail and they are very accustomed to people." (I need an "Oh" in front to have a thought, apparently.) Then, as I passed them and they still didn't move, I figured it out:
I seriously thought I would be the victim of a "deer attacks man" video that would somehow find its way to YouTube. From there it pretty much went downhill, so to speak. I wound down like a cheap watch, wilting in the heat. On the way back towards the car, 2.3 miles in, I approached a hill and said "Um, no thank you." So I turned and went back the other way for awhile. Then I approached another hill and said "Um, no thank you." I rolled around in the bottom of this gravity well like a lumpy grape in a cedarwood bowl.
When I hit three miles (in a miserable 40:14; 4.5 mph), I said uncle and walked back to the car. At that point I consumed yet another bottle of water and called the wife:
Wife: "How did it go?"
Me: "Bad, but it's like pizza ... even bad pizza is good."
Wife: "Does that mean you want pizza for dinner?"
Me: "Like a hole in the head."
We had yummy London Broil, with green bean casserole and a salad. And I did not have seconds. Look at all that whitespace on the plate. Man, I better lose a pound for all this <. REDACTED .>. Hey, what the <. REDACTED .> is that? Summer, is that you?!?
You can see the gravity well area if you click to enlarge the picture below. On the plus side: nothing in my legs hurt at all! That is very encouraging to me.