Failing Successfully

There are many methods to maintaining coolness.

Is this one of them?

The alarm was set for 5:30am, though I woke up at 5:25am and flicked the switch to a preemptive off position. Yesterday's weather forecast had called for not only thunderstorms, but 90°F+ heat. So, while sipping on a glass Garfield™ mug (from circa 1980) of cool water, with a couple of ice cubes clinking together, I peered through the blinds at a perfectly blue sky. I reasoned, since I didn't feel all that well rested, that if it wasn't going to rain, then I would just sleep in some more and push my 11 mile LSD off until the evening. Hopping back in bed, I was immediately happy with this decision.

I woke up around 8am, to see there were still clear skies abound. So I went about my day humming I feel fine up until about 1pm, when the clouds closed in like a red velour curtain dropping after the final act of a play, met with thunderous applause, and soon began pouring rain on my parade. Checking with various weather sources, there was a predicted window of "less likely to rain" weather coming up between 3pm and 6pm, after which thunderstorms through the night was the general consensus. At 2:45pm things were looking brighter, and I headed out into a reasonably light mist, ready for some Singing in the Rain as I Ran for 11 miles.

The first 2 miles of the run were fine. I was taking it extremely slow, and although it was still blazing hot, what little rain there was, served as a refreshing buffer between me and the much harsher heat element. But the sun would not let the clouds linger for long, and soon was turning the wet pavement into a sauna of steam rising up and enveloping my every move with a cloud of uncomfortableness. Fortunately, I planned the course out as a 4x4x3 mile loop, so after my first 4 miles, I grabbed water and poured it over my head (not unlike the photo above, but less classy for sure), then guzzled a good amount of it down my gullet. I Immediately headed back out for the second 4 miles.

It was noticeably hotter now than when I started running. The rain was long gone, and there was nothing between me & the 93°F afternoon except a hat and a completely drenched shirt*. I made it past the halfway point, and with 2 miles left on the loop I was parched. It was here that a lady yelled to me from her front porch, "be careful of the heat!", as I waved and thanked her for her concern. This was the seed that started my unravelling. Physically, I was languishing, sure, but I still had enough energy to keep moving on. If there's one thing you learn while marathon training, it's persistence. Mentally, I began questioning my sanity for continuing this run in such unforgiving conditions. Was it worth jeopardizing my overall safety for sheer tenacity?

At the end of 8 miles I opted out of finishing the remaining 3 miles of the run. I came home defeated by the heat, but at least I came home safely. It's disappointing to leave a run incomplete, as it feels like each goal along the way is a small victory on the path to marathon, but what's important is not to focus on failure. Marathons are mental & physical challenges, and come Tuesday, I'll be eager to lace up my shoes and get back on track.

Going by this heat index chart, I made the right choice by cutting out early on the run. Yesterday's combination of 93°F with a 55% humidity put me at the apparent air temperature fulcrum of being anywhere between 98° to 110°F. Making anything from heat cramps, heat exhaustion, to heat stroke a potential threat. It's sad to say, but I miss the days when the streets were paved in snow, and my biggest threat was falling over into a nice fluffy mound of soft serenity. Ah, if only making snow angels could be considered cross training in July; I guess it will have to wait until January comes again.


Footnotes:
*For the curious, yes, I was also wearing shorts...and sunblock.
Photo via Library of Congress