As we start to descend into the cool of autumn and the breezy cold of winter, I realize that running in the heat and humidity is always precious to me in hindsight. Although it does not get really cold here compared to other places, I would be happy to have 12 months of summer.
So, this weekends last longish run before the big dance next Saturday felt precious for two reasons; the unexpected return of the heat and humidity and overcoming the voice in my head that wanted a cruisy Sunday sleep-in. Even though the signs of autumn are all around, this weekend felt like the last blast of the departing summer. A late night, meant a late start when the sun was well and truly blazing. I struggled mentally to complete the hilly 14km loop to Newport. The humidity seemed to sap all my strength and it was only by thinking of how much suffering is ahead of me on the Black Range that I managed to grind out the run this morning. Now if only this suffering would lessen that which is ahead.
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