I lived on the Gulf Coast of Texas from 1978-1990, and from 1992-2001 as a stay at home dad with my three children. It was necessary I do most of my weekly runs in the late afternoon. The temps most often in the 90s.
Glistening sheen, urge to purge, accelerated by heat and stifling humidity. In my mid to late 30s and at the very top of my game. Rarely let training pace go over 6:00/mile, sadly prompted by anger at a demon that haunts me to this day.
Coming into my own as a competitive distance runner in the 4th largest city in the United States. My coup stick feathered, fueling thirst for more, driven to be the best I could possibly be.
All these thoughts going through my head on this morning’s early, dripping 1 mile effort. Less than 5 months to the 65-69 age group.
Content.
1992 Fall Festival in Lake Jackson, Texas. Still a little hair up there!
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