Cotton Shorts and Humid Nights

Last evening on my way home from work, I stopped by the local establishment sponsoring tomorrow night's 5K race. My plan was to pick up the race packets, as Ted and I had discussed walking to the start as a warm-up. Race packets and me are like a kid and Christmas...as soon as I got in the car, I admired the 'free' T-shirt and tore open my packet, looking for the goodies stowed inside.

What I did find inside that was different was a print-out of the course map. I ran this race last year, and being in the town where I live, one would think I would know the course, and remember it. One would be wrong. The course starts out in a minor downhill slope, only to continue into the 2nd mile on a gradual incline. This incline I like to compare to wine--you don't realize you've hit it too hard until it's too late. This is the part of the race I began to block out from last year--from coming up 4th Street, I didn't remember it we turned on 2nd...or School Road...or continued straight.

Ted was also excited to see the course map, and eagerly suggested we do a test run and walk up to the park to run the race. We timed our run the same time the run tomorrow night will be (gun time 7:00) and started out.

(The following conversation takes place at previously mentioned Mile 2)
Ted: &*#$ this hill!
Maggie: Excuse me?
Ted: (silent)

(Skip ahead a minute or two)
Ted: &*#$ this hill!
Maggie: I told you...
Ted: (silent)

This continued, and despite the course map we had studied and brought along, we still turned too soon and had to cut over another road to make the route and distance as similar to tomorrow night's race as possible. Upon entering the 2.5 mile mark, we passed a poor, innocent woman watering her flowers with a spray nozzle and hose.

Ted: Spray me.
Lady: Ok...
Ted: No, I'm serious. Spray me.
Lady: Ok...
Ted: Spray me. I want sprayed.

Ms. Lady sprayed him, not quite the drencher he had been hoping for, but for awhile it seemed to help. (Please keep in mind this is a 5K run we are doing...one would have thought we were in the depth of a long endurance event).

Upon completion of the run, I turned, happy to have finished and proud of our results. I smiled, only to find a miserable boy next to me.

Ted: I can't wear these shorts. I want to take them off. Ow.
Maggie: Why?

Morale of the story (on behalf of Ted): Don't wear thick cotton gym shorts for a run in 85-degree soupy weather. All conclusions can be made on your own imagination (or experience).