Dang, it’s hot out.
Today, I was scheduled for a 1.5-mile run and because of the morning nap situation, we didn’t leave for the trail till 12:15, the sun directly overhead.
It was slow and hot. I was tempted to lean on the BOB like it was a Stairmaster. The squeals of refreshed delight drifting across the lake made me drag even more.
Is the water cold or luke warm? Is the bottom sandy or muddy?
I so wanted to find out; wished I could go wading and squish my toes in. Instead they rubbed together inside my sweat-soaked socks.
I also felt bad for T Junior on the way back. I tried to sprint between patches of speckled shade, but all I really did was tire myself out faster. He must have been okay, though, since he was falling asleep. I’d promised him we’d go to the little neighborhood park after my workout (not that he knew what I was talking about). I figure if I don’t want him to fuss about jogging with me in the future, I better incorporate a reward for him.
When we were finally done (I swear, it was one of the longest 1.5 miles of my life), I was so thirsty. And, we weren’t going home right away. I didn’t drink enough water this morning or yesterday.
I looked at T Junior’s red race car sippy cup, still full, in the side pocket of the BOB. He’d hardly touched it.
I bet it’s still full.
When I went for my 3-miler last week, I brought hydration for myself in a travel coffee mug. But I’d only thought to bring a drink for T Junior today.
I don’t think he’ll mind.
I reached for the cup and gulped half of its contents. It’s not really that much different than a sports bottle, right?
But just in case you’re wondering, I took the lid off.