Once again it seems that we're in the middle of those first few runs in warmer weather.
I guess the term warm is relative to wherever you happen to find yourself,
but around here, mid- to upper-nineties pretty effectively constitutes "warm weather."
The combination of these temps and the sticky thick humidity makes for some seemingly oppressive runs at first,
but after the first couple, I really feel like I'm getting back to my roots.
I started running in the heat of a Southern summer, and typically my best training is during this time as well.
I didn't know how miserable it was supposed to be, so I cheated the system and enjoyed it anyway.
Sometimes this takes some reminding myself, but after I've done so,
I can enjoy the unique experience of that first swig of water after 2 or 3 hours on the run,
that shock to the system that comes with the first sensation of stillness,
and even the endless rhythm of my feet lightly tapping the radiant asphalt.
Maybe this is a unique indulgence of mine, these ascetic jaunts,
but I suspect that on some level we all live for these runs.
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