Stupid hot Saturdays

I am not a hot weather runner. Every degree past 15 makes me increasingly uncomfortable, and I might as well stay home if it pushes past 25. All of my worst races took place in the heat of summer, including one disastrous marathon that ended with heat stroke, so I usually try to take it easy around July and August.

That being said, I can't turn down a rave run, so when Chris Fudge asked me to join him for part of a 50k bike ride, I couldn't refuse. My portion, approximately 27k total, included 2 ferry rides, and some beautiful views of both the Kennebecasis and Saint John rivers. With that sort of scenery, how hard could it be?

Well, it wasn't exactly a walk in the park. The first 11k, the distance from my house to the Romeo and Juliet ferry, was fine, but I was panting for water about 4 miles in. I made a quick stop at the Millidgeville for some Gatorade, and had it finished off before I made my trip across the river. Chris and I had a scheduled out rendez vous for about an hour into my run, and I was hoping he would show up with more water and nourishment before I overheated.

It almost happened. I showed up at our destination point with only a mouthful of water left (many thanks to Tom and Brenda for the bottle of water on the ferry!) and the sun beating down on me. Fudge was nowhere in sight, so I sat on a lawn, stretched my weary limbs, and waited. He arrived fifteen minutes later, late on account of unexpected hills. Since Fudge planned the route, I wondered how many more hidden hills we would encounter.

I should have known the answer the moment I stepped off the ferry and was met with a terrible, steep hill. The roads leveled off for a bit, but after a few kilometers the hills returned with a vengeance, slowing me to a crawl on several occasions. At one point, after we were met with yet another brutal climb, I turned to Chris, gave him a dirty look, and yelled, "This is WEAK." I ran away before he could respond, but I bet he was pleased with himself for torturing me.

Luckily, the run came to a finish before Chris and I killed each other. I started picking up speed on the last downhill, and finished as strong as I could considering the circumstances. It took about 15 minutes longer than planned, but I made it through in one piece. Legs beaten to a pulp from the hills, yes, but in one piece.

My next long run with Chris takes place on Thursday. I think I'll approve the route prior to running it.