Some days I question my sanity. Today is a very hot day– 89F, heat index of 99F, dew point of 76F (“skip it or dramatically alter goal”). It’s one of those sticky, sultry summer days where the sun beats down and everything steams until a big storm rolls through in the evening.
But I had metaphorical ants in my pants this afternoon, and really wanted to get out for a run. (My shoulders and back are sore from yesterday’s inaugural swim, but my legs are fine.) So I decided that going out for just 30 minutes was reasonable; I’d take water and a sweat rag and walk if I wanted to.
And it turned out okay actually; I covered 2.3 mi in that 30 minutes on the uphill-downhill route; I had the energy to work hard on the uphill first half and then I could cruise my sweaty self back downhill.
My dirty gym clothes have become absolutely foul and I’m not sure what’s driving this sudden increase in stankitude. Sorting my laundry is Russian roulette– I mean, I have a pretty high tolerance for stinkiness, and this is eyes-rolling-back-in-my-head, about-to-pass-out, weapons-grade-banned-under-international-convention stinky. I wish I was exaggerating! They’re fresh again after a wash? What in the world is my body producing to make that level of stank? My body itself isn’t really smelly post-workout either?
(Blog note: new icon! I figured it was time to retire Zimmy and go with something more topical– that is, some generic person running on a beach…)
Running While Fat 