no rain!

But it was only 14-15 C when we started our run, even though I was later than planned!  It felt almost cold.  It banished my doubts about the intended length of the run.

Though it took me about 50 minutes to get out of the door, we were still early enough that there was almost nobody on the road.  A few cars, and one other runner, a soldier by the looks of it.  Which leads me to a topic that I've been pondering idly for a while: hill guilt.  Maybe I'm the only one who feels this.  It occurs when I'm relaxing and rolling downhill, as fresh as the morning dew, and I meet a runner fighting up the opposite direction.  Which leads me to another topic: stench guilt.  It occurs later on, sometimes much later on, when I pass a runner who smells like soap and detergent, as fresh as the morning dew, but my odoriferous reply is at least unpleasant, and more likely horrendous.  I would like to apologize to the second runner I met, nearly two hours into my run.  I've eaten a bunch of garlic this week.

Well, anyway, we ran about five miles on the road, and then we went into the forest.  And then I had to pee.  I am not complaining, merely pointing out a drawback to a drop in temperature: increased water retention.  I drank a volume of fluid that I didn't sweat out as expected.  Worse still, I was carrying a sloshing water bottle on my waist belt.  Fortunately, I was in the back part of the forest, nearly an hour before it even "opened"; I had never ever seen anyone there early in the morning.  Even though the underbrush is pretty thin, privacy seemed adequate.  I stopped and glanced about and stepped off the path.

Which leads me to another topic: strip siren.  Ten thousand hells, curse of my life!  The moment I make myself a little more vulnerable, someone comes out of the woodwork.  We hike for 9+ hours in Utah, and our only human encounter happens when I'm pulling up my pants.  I clamber in and out of a few empty rocky coves on a desolate Nova Scotia coast to absolutely ensure privacy, and a surfer breaks away from the pack further down and walks onto the beach while I'm in mid-wipe.  After hours of hearing nothing but birds and animals, I squat and suddenly hear human voices (this has happened multiple times).  Surrounded by miles of empty water and shore, I'm putting on a bikini (too awkward to kayak in), and, bam, a boat.  I think it must have teleported--there was nowhere it could have hidden, the coast was straight, the waves weren't high, and all of a sudden, it's there, mere meters from the shore.  Still a mystery. 

This morning, when I was about to squat, I saw blue and red out of the corner of my eye.  FFFFFFF....but it would have been worse ten seconds later.  I sloshed a couple of miles to the ranger station, tied the dog up outside, and used the facilities there.  And then we jogged around the forest some more.  I felt surprisingly fresh, although I was getting sloppy with the roots after a couple of hours. 

Total run: 2:15-2:20.  Very encouraging!

Then I did leg exercises, most of 4 sets.  Very tiring!

Daily double...eh.....I've kind of gone off it.  :/  ok, just did the pushups at least.