This morning I woke up and it was as if Satan had given me a day pass out of Hell. It was 65 degrees out with a dewpoint at 55. It almost — almost — felt like fall.
I’d pushed a 12 miler with some at marathon pace out to this morning, hoping the weather would cooperate. It’s a recovery week and this is the only hard workout I have (unless you count the easy 16 I’ll do on Sunday). Damned if I was going to suffer through it in a heat index of 95.
I had, for the first time in weeks, an enjoyable run. Cool and breezy, and hardly anyone out clogging up the running path at 7:30AM. Oh, I still sweated like a fiend, but I didn’t feel as though I was melting. Big difference.
Today was the highlight weatherwise, although it doesn’t look like tomorrow or Sunday will be too bad. I’m sure I’ll be back living and running in Hell soon enough.