Don't trust the dusk

The day is ending.  The sun is setting.  Gradually, pink clouds roll in like a blanket tucking the sun into the darkness that hasn't quite overcome the world.  The heat and humidity still linger, but as the sun is sinking into its slumber, it lures the scalding temperatures down with it making it the perfect time to squeeze in a run... or so I thought.

The first burst of stride is always the most refreshing.  I can almost feel my muscles yawn, stretch and explode into life, awakened from the stiffness of sitting in trainings all day.  Then my lungs catch up and I realize how out of shape I am.  I settle into a comfortable pace and jam out to my music acquiring awkward stares as I air drum to the beat and mouth the words in the short spurts when I can keep my lungs from exploding.  Then the sweat comes.  Not that it's a bad thing.  That's one of my favorite things about running; you sweat out all the negatives of the day.  It's only a bad thing when every ten feet you run directly into a swirling, swarming, swiveling bunch of pestering gnats.   I'm pretty sure I swallowed/inhaled at least ten while another half dozen drowned in the sweat pools on my face.  I definitely pulled several from my cheeks and eyes, some in pieces.  When you add a spider web to the mix, then you're really having fun because now you can catch more gnats from the stickiness that seems to be growing from your arms and face and everywhere.  Granted, the gnats and spiders are only a small distraction from my running, but they are insects I can do without.

I finally finished my measly two miles, and after the feeling of wanting to throw up passed, I felt pretty good.  However, I think I will try to stick to morning runs.  It may all just be in my head, but I feel like I am less likely to be attacked by nature.  Rather, I'm embraced by it.  The sun smiles as it peaks above the roofs of the houses in my neighborhood saving its boiling temperatures until after I finish.  The birds sing lightly and lead my on my way, like in a disney movie.  It's a much more pleasant experience.  But I can't complain too much because as I've learned from my great friend, Christine, it's better to be positive.

AT LEAST I ran.
AT LEAST I tried.
AT LEAST I can laugh about it.
AT LEAST I was able to get my hind parts off the couch.

Although it doesn't seem this way, the real point of this post is that I forgot how therapeutic running can be.  Those endorphins really do work! Last summer I was a running machine.  This summer, for whatever reason, I've lost my motivation.  Oh well, here's to starting a more consistent running regimen! Who's with me?!