Now, I see that weather was just a preparation for the real deal. With the high-temperatures past 110, I am now brutally reminded of what a real Arizona summer feels like.
I feel perpetually thirsty and the profusion of sweat leaves my muscles achy, my eyes stingy and my body tired. I really don't remember being this miserable!
I'm usually not one to complain about the heat because dealing with the natural elements is just part of the sport that I so deeply love - but excuse me, because I feel like complaining. Perhaps this is just an adjustment period that is quickly forgotten, or perhaps in my ripe old age of 30, my ability to deal with the physical effects of such discomfort is dwindling. You know, in the same likeness that I can no longer tolerate a hangover.
Saturday morning I met my running group at 5am. It was already hot. I didn't feel like running, which is an extremely rare situation. But of course after slathering yourself in sun screen and tying your running shoes, you do not go back to bed.
I managed 11 miles. There was day that 11 miles would have never qualified as a long run. But these days, I struggle to make it past that.
I guess I ask myself: Why? I am not training for anything. Why risk the chance of injury?
But I also ask myself: Am I making a reasonable decision or a justification?
After my miserable 11 miles, I went home and collapsed on the couch.
I would have stayed there but we had a birthday party to attend.
An outside birthday party.
Although it was hot, the kids really enjoyed themselves. Most of the attendees were adorable little boys so I taught Brenna how to flirt using the aloof Hair Flip Method.
And Hayden liked the food. He always likes the food.
But afterwards, everyone was exhausted. We did an early nap-time but even three hours later, no one felt refreshed. (I probably would have felt better but I used the time to catch up on Next Food Network Star).
Even a simple errand, like escorting David to Home Depot, was too exerting. No one felt like walking.
Clearly we have some work to do if we want to survive the summer.
It's only June.
This is only the beginning.