A couple of days ago I went running on a local trail with a friend (who we will call KT) and we were faced with something horrific.
The Curse of the Distance Runner.
For a distance runner one seemingly simple rule is vital: no matter how far you run, you must always turn back around and run back the way you came (unless it's a circle course, that is).
Anyways, we started the day relatively early, believing it wouldn't be too hot at 9:30.
We were wrong. It felt like someone rolled us in butter and then stuck us in an oven. No, it was a sauna. That's the only way to describe the extreme humidity.
So there we were, buttery and greasy running through a sauna, when we realized we had still had to turn back around. Our cars seemed as distant as China. KT and I were stranded without water and were practically racing against an unnaturally-tan duo of women. Not to mention the overly-buff, sweaty, aggressive man. The odds were against us.
KT and I passed several walkers carrying water bottles. I wanted to jump them.
We even saw some sprinklers. Unfortunately, none of the water got into my mouth. I had to keep running though, squishy socks and all, to reach my car.
It felt like the never-ending trail, similar to Mario's never-ending staircase. If I was a cartoon character, I definitely would have had anger squiggles over my head at that point.
Finally, the cars were reached. I squirted water into my mouth so desperately I could've been a Nike commercial.
Moral of the story? Run in circles.
22 hours ago