And your stupid humidity.
Last year, in November, when I was whining about the impending winter, my friend at work, David, said this gem:
"When it's about 40 degrees out, it's my favorite time to run. I just go faster all of a sudden."
I, still a rookie, gafawed at this. Huh-LARIOUS. No friggin WAY would anyone choose to run in 40 degree weather. No WAY.
OH DEAR GOD I MISS FEBRUARY.
For reals. And he was so right about 40 degrees. Cool enough where you'll start out with a jacket, but you can probably shed it in the second mile. Not too cold to be freezing when you get home, but cool enough that your hot shower is going to feel AWESOME.
Now, after I run, I get home and sweat even after gallons of water and a cold shower.
Which reminds me...
How in the heck did I learn how to run in August. In North Carolina? And what in heavens name posessed me to stick with it?
To combat the heat, we are running tomorrow at 5:30. Uh. A.M.
Still better than 99 degrees at 5:30 P.M., so I'll count my blessings.