I dwell in possibility …
Thank you all for your comments yesterday. It still makes me smile thinking of that guy handing me that cold bottle of water. He even took the empty on my way back!
Isn't today's quote terrific? It seems gentler than the "consider the possibilities" tagline in that old Visa credit card commercial, but still leaves you thinking the world is your oyster.
I was certainly dwelling in possibility when, last December, I got the crazy idea to run a half-marathon last spring. I'd never done anything like that before. Challenging myself physically was, in fact, completely off my radar.
And I knew, even before I crossed the finish line, that I would do it again.
The training challenges this time around are as different from the last regimen as they can be. Instead of snow and ice and freezing temperatures, I'm dealing with thick, oppressive, moist air that you can practically see and touch. When I registered for the next two runs, one in October and one in November, I knew I'd be training in August, but I had no idea how brutal it would be.
The heat absolutely zaps my energy. I'd gotten to the point earlier in the summer where I could run four or five miles in the morning and then mow the lawn, tidy up the house and do a couple loads of laundry. Now? Not so much.
I'm just not acclimated to a 90/90 heat/humidity combo, and you can't really get acclimated because, at least this time, it happened rather suddenly. A couple weeks ago the high temperature was in the mid-70s.
I still don't know how you deep-south runners manage it. I know your homes, cars, offices and stores are all air-conditioned, just as ours are. But you do seem to get used to transitioning between cool indoors and steamy outdoors better than we wimps up north do. That must be why we get heat-index warnings and Florida doesn't.
Every morning I dwell in the possibility that today will be the day the heat wave breaks.
Judging from today's first quick trip outdoors with the dogs, I don't think so.
But I'm ready to run, and I will run, because it's part of the schedule and because, when I'm done, I know I'll feel good and because it won't be possible to run eight or 10 or 13.1 miles this fall if I don't do five or six or seven now.
Possibility doesn't become reality without footwork.