Day #9: 5AM Run and a Thunderstorm

Woke up at 4:40 a.m. after a dream snuck up behind me.

Got up, tacked on my shoes, "Train Hard."

At the last mile and a half, thunder and lightning embraced the atmosphere with a belligerent jubilee.  Or maybe it was lightning coughing up a lung over my head.

The streak of blaze seared into the powdered and weeping blue.  Just as moments in our lives transmute themselves into electrical currents between our synapses, seared into our memories as errant thoughts.

Men's Health: The Biology of Running

In persistence hunting, the trick is to trot almost nonstop in the heat of the midday sun, pushing the animal along so that it never has time to recover in the shade of an acacia tree. The Kalahari hunters have figured out how to play one critical advantage in a deadly game that pitches their survival against that of animals: Humans have an evaporative cooling system, in the form of sweat; antelope don't. When conditions are right, a man can run even the fastest antelope on earth to death by overheating.

Then it started to rain.  5 miles.  I walked back, each droplet lightly sprinkling its coolness over a steaming surface.