Summer running is the pits. Seriously. It is the absolute worst. Why do sometimers always run in the summer? Do they like the stifling humidity and stinky clothing? Or is it feeling like you’re breathing underwater that brings everyone out to the streets in the summer? Wait, I know, it’s the salty tomato face, because everyone looks fabulous in the salty tomato face.
I just don’t get it. When I run in the summer my feet are on fire, I’m dehyrdrated, and soaking wet. Does this not happen to everyone else?! Everyone looks at me like I’ve lost my mind when I’m out there in a blizzard, but I’m here to tell you, that’s a cake walk compared to 89 degrees and humid.
This morning I took off while it was still cool, a real treat when you have to plan runs around a complex family, and the first couple of miles I was telling myself how pleasant it was, and nearly convinced myself that summer runs weren’t as awful as I thought, but by the time I had five miles under my belt I looked like I was drowning in salted beet juice and though I have never actually drowned in salted beet juice, I’m guessing that’s what it feels like too.
You summer runners, you sometimers, you have it backward man. But that’s okay, I’ll enjoy the roads all to myself when the temperatures plunge. You’ll think I’m brave, you’ll think I’ve lost it, and you can think that all you want, but instead of coming home spent and dehydrated, I’ll be coming home feeling invigorated and refreshed. I’ll have a suntan on my face in February and be flipping the bird to my SAD. And the funniest part is that while I’m having the time of my life out living it up in the frigid temperatures, you will think I’m being tough and brave.