A while back I complained about running in the rain. I tried to tell myself that it was the only weather that made it hard for me to run.
Turns out I was kidding myself. I hate running in the heat, mostly because I hate the heat. When the temperature's between, say, 75 and 85 degrees Fahrenheit, it's merely a source of amusement among family and friends, as I start to get uncomfortable. Beyond that, though, I get miserable and usually plant myself in front of the nearest fan.
Needless to say, running in the heat is right out, especially since I increasingly struggle to drag my ass out of bed early enough in the morning to run before work. In my younger days (read: 20s) I would grab a few miles at lunchtime, then wonder why I felt like crap the rest of the day. Now I know better.
It sucks, because I, like any runner, would rather be running than sitting on my ass. (It doesn't help that I really don't have one, so sitting on it for prolonged period of time makes it sore.) But it's the sort of thing that I've accepted. Instead, I try to cross train -- as I did on a recent trip to Florida, when I hit the pool instead of trying to run in 90-degree heat -- or do some core work while watching TV (with the ceiling fan on, of course), all the while reminding myself that, in six months, I'll be much happier.
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