Don't be Queasy!

WARNING: the following post is not for those who, in the midst of conversation about bodily fluids, decide they must either leave hacking, or squint viciously to prevent detailed visions from entering their brains.

In other words, I will never reread this post.

I went for a run today.
Ok, wait. Let me set the stage. I did not go for a run early this morning, when the temperature outside was a mere mild 75 degrees. I went this evening, after 98-degree heat, plus who-knows-how-much humidity, had already baked the air surrounding Lexington for at least 12 hours. That's right. I went at 7:30pm. The sun was still shining brightly, albeit at eye-level.

When I returned to my car in the park 3 miles later, I could see my neck glistening in the window's reflection. The hair caught up in clips on either side of my head was drenched. My ponytail was even hot and heavy against my back. As soon as I stopped to cool down, the cooling breeze effected by my movement stopped, and I could feel the heat in my red face rush into the space behind my eyes. I started to close my eyes, but immediately had to open them wide again, because the perspiration on my eyelids was started to seep into the corners and sting my eyeballs. I went to wipe it away with the back of my hand. But my hand merely slid along the side of my forehead, because it, too, was wet with shiny salt-water. I franticly grabbed my shirt hem (in a most unladylike fashion) and pressed it to my eyes to relieve the burning that was now moving inward toward my corneas.

Then, the shiny, glistening dew that seemed to be squeezing my head together started to drip. A few seconds later, it started to pour. Down my temples from the frizzy curls escaping from my ponytail.... Down my forehead and nose to collect on my upper lip, which now tasted like salty grime.... Down my jaw from my rosy cheeks, and continuing down my neck. I pressed my tank top into my clavicle, to catch the streams before they started to collect in my sports bra. The shirt stuck to my chest. It turned a darker color blue.

I ducked halfway into my (black!) car, turned on the engine, and switched the A/C on full-blast, backing out just before my head reached boiling point, in order to do my stretches.

When I left the park 10 minutes later, I couldn't decide whether or not to shut my sweaty body into the air-conditioned car, thereby recirculating stale, stinky air, which I would then be greeted by in the morning. I ended up leaving the windows cracked, and reclined my seat so that my back wouldn't touch it--for fear of permanently soaking the upholstery.
Thank goodness I always carry tissues in my car. I felt a wave of chills as I wiped my face; ahhh... cool air can reach my skin! The tissue was gliding so easily now...down my neck...eeeewwww! It's soaking wet!!
I should keep paper towels in my car.
Or beach towels.

So if this wasn't motivation to get my butt out of bed and run before the sun gets hot (I love that stupid phrase!), I don't know what is.