I had mapped out 17 miles for myself this morning. On the fly (feeling the temperature rising rapidly), I did a bit of recalculation in an attempt to keep my route on the section of the Esplanade with the highest density of water fountains.
I ran three loops of Memorial and the Esplanade between the Mass Ave bridge and the Longfellow, in addition to the trek over there and back. I thought for sure I had upped my route to 18 miles. I came home, panicked over not having V8 in the house, drank some extra-salty gatorade instead and mapped the whole thing, with changes, again.
Grand total: 15 miles.
(I suppose mid-90′s will do that to you.)
And so, I’m still a bit behind schedule, but last week’s mileage was none too shabby, and I have to admit a bit of surprise at how remarkably un-achey I’m feeling. I was nervous about jumping into higher miles to try to catch up; so far, so good.
The bigger challenge will be working out an alternative to a full 18-miler during next weekend’s Mt. Washington adventure…
Though I was certainly dragging by the end of my 18 15 miles, I was far from incapacitated. I shivered through a cold bath (much less terrible in summer than winter) and thoroughly rolled my needy calves, and recovered quickly enough to ride off to a barbeque this evening.
No, the running is not the most painful part of long runs in the summer, nor is the recovery; the worst part is the salt.
I refer not to the chafing sort of saltiness that afflicts many runners. For me, this has never been much of an issue (perhaps because I sweat, and sweat, and keep on sweating). I should clarify: I am what some in the running world would refer to as a “salty sweater.” I don’t just sweat a little, and I don’t just lose a bit of sodium; I pour sweat, quite literally, until it drips off of my bent elbows as I run, and I have such a hard time keeping enough sodium in my system that I snack on salt-covered licorice during runs, and down a pint glass of V8 immediately upon my return.
All of these things have helped me overcome the hyponatremia-induced sickness that plagued my first attempts at distance running last year, and that’s all well and good.
But the salt, it burns.
You see, the salt that dries into my eyebrows over three or four hours running in the heat immediately liquifies as soon as I step into the shower. For the life of me, I can’t keep it out of my eyes – it lingers and pools in the corners of my eyes and my lashes, just waiting for me to take my face out of the water and try to look for the shampoo. I’ve tried dunking my face before I shower; I’ve tried wiping the salt from by eyebrows with a wet papertowel; I’ve tried to just keep my eyes closed for the duration. No such luck.
I’m going to need to invest in a killer sweatband. Any requests?
[...] for a work conference on Saturday, and a class walking tour on Sunday; I occupied myself with a long run and a lettering [...]