Here is today's route: (for some reason the lines are white... I know that is not very helpful, but think of it as an interesting game of connect the dots)
So to keep things as interesting as you could with mile repeats, I went clock-wise on the first mile and then counter-clockwise for mile two and so on from there. The weather was fairly nice, but humid.
As I completed each mile, I stopped at the "aid" station and fueled up. That meant that on mile, 3, 9, 12 and 15, I would have a gel and on the rest I would have some Gatorade to keep hydrated.
Aid station Edwards
I ended up not doing to badly as my longest stop was about 50 seconds and I averaged just over 9 minute miles throughout the 17 that I ran... that's 27.2 kilometers for you metric thinkers.
WARNING THIS NEXT SECTION OF THE BLOG IS NOT FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO ARE EASY GROSSED OUT OR OFFENDED BY BODILY SECRETIONS.
You see, the problem towards the end was the humidity. Picking the right outfit or top is crucial. ... I mean this in the most non-meterosexual way. I am not talking about whether or not it matches or coordinates in any way with what else I am wearing. Basically, If you are too cold, you end up having a poor run, as you just cannot seem to get it together. If you wear to heavy a top, you sweat profusely. Well today, I decided to wear the dri-fit top I got in my race package at the Desert half. It is white, so I thought it was the perfect blend of functionality and design. Functionality, as it would keep me warm at the start when it was a bit cool out, and yet it was white so it would not attract the heat like a black shirt. Design, as it is supposed to wick the sweat away from your body to the outside of the material where it aids in evaporation and keeps you dry... no one likes to chafe.
Well, as I went through my laps it go warm.. well not so warm as to be hot, but warm enough that combined with my increased desire to post some great times for the blogging community, it caused me to perspire. Slowly , but very steadily my Hyvee hat started to swell with its failed attempts to wick the moisture from me 'ead.
Over time that perspiration was no longer being "wicked" from my bodacious bod as my dri-fit started acting more like the kinda thing one might see at every hotel on the beaches of South-Padre from February to April.
Here is a quick shot that Lori took when I got home and was about to take my shirt off.
By now this built up perspiration was forming a tiny trickle down my pecs and scapulae. This trickle, as most streams tend to start out as, worked its way simultaneously down past my navel and back dimples into my shorts where they, too, got into the act of wickage. Now that everyone was at the party, I was nothing more than a running sponge.
Basically, my "outfit" was at the max-wickage one could possible hope for, which ultimately meant that it began to seep down past my knees and into my shoes. So by mile 17, my shoes were down right squishy..... which, as you guessed, further aggravated my already sensitive tootsies.
What a mess. When I finally arrived home, I was the equivalent of a running wet mop. I grabbed a sip of Gatorade and sat down on my front porch with a splat and proceeded to wring the "au-jus" from my "wicking" dri-fit shirt.
No ..... this is not trick photography..... eeeewwwwww.
Now that's sexy..... is it just me or does my ring toe on my left foot look like it is blacker?
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