Crow, meet palate. Palate, say hello to crow.

Note to self: 45 degrees makes a difference ...

D'oh! (Photo courtesy Fox)

Where to begin with the folly of today's run? At the beginning, I suppose.

So, the alarm goes off at 5 and I "listen to my body" which says it is sore and requires another hour of sleep to recover from the beating it has taken this week. OK. So I sleep, knowing I can get in a run at noon. Except I forget I've got a lunch meeting at noon. Then I get the bright idea I'll run the trail behind the Rec Center instead of on the treadmill. Even when the thermometer in my car says it is 92 degrees. Heck, there's a nice breeze out. I grew up in Houston. I can take the heat, no biggee ...

So I hit the trail. First five minutes or so are A-OK. Next five minutes, OK. The next minute I'm wondering where the hell my stamina went. So I walk a minute. Then run some more. Then walk another minute. Then run some more. Then, well, the official breakdown goes like this:

Run: 11.12
Walk: 1.01
Run: 2.58
Walk: .55
Run: 2.08
Walk: .56
Run: 2.12
Walk: 1.01
Run: 1:41
Walk: .57
Run: 3:30 (was in public view here where the "trail" runs along the sidewalk of a busy street, so, of course, there's no walking -- shamefully -- in public view).
Walk: .59
Run: 1.10
Walk: 1.03
Run: 2.23 (now running behind an elementary school and, dammit, kids are out playing so must save face and continue running. Those little ....)
Walk 1.00
Run:1.44

So if my math's correct (never a given) that's almost 29 minutes running, and about 8 minutes walking. Distance is a mystery. The program I found on Google to track mileage didn't track real well with the signs on the trail.

Suffice it to say, boy I sure didn't run for a very long time when the temperature rose. Wow. Still, I ran. I sweated. In fact, I'm still sweating now as I write this almost an hour after finishing ...

John Vintage (or is it Winthorpe?) Harrison, you were right. Watch that ego.