Running in the summer means that on some days, the only time I can run is between five and seven PM and it is sweltering. It means that I have to run on the concrete side of the street to find any bit of shade but I still feel dizzy and disoriented, even by the end of a quick three miler.
It means that some days, a torrential downpour will consume you a good two miles from home and you have to adjust your electronics so they don’t get drenched. It means stopping at bus stops in hopes the rain will quit but you really only end up sitting next to a skeezy looking guy awaiting the bus. And wondering if you smell horribly of sweat but then realize he smells worse.
Marathon training in summer means those hill intervals are way more difficult because the humidity is insanely high and the humidity is what keeps you from sweating effectively. Your lungs feel constricted and even if you have the actual energy and even if your legs still feel fresh after that Blairstone climb times three, you want to fall into a heap in the next shady spot and curl up, clutching at your ribcage for relief.
But oh, how sweet it is to be jogging past those last four houses, just past the neighbour’s boat where I can slow to a recovery walk for the duration of my driveway. Typing the four number passcode For the garage is such a magical moment because as the door lifts up and reveals home, I can taste my gatorade already and know that a cool shower awaits.
And once that run is over, I can put it away, compartmentalize that aspect of my life and move on. I wash dishes, read to Isaac, play a card game. I don’t think about the next run until the day of and even then, I try to keep it on the back burner until it’s time. if I can just take each day’s run in stride, then i will make it through this training.