Hot, hot, hot

The weekend weather, that is.

We went to the hills of Kentucky for a retreat, something we’ve done for the last nine years, and I don’t ever remember it being so hot, humid and uncomfortable. The park where we stay has hiking trails and a lake and a lovely front porch with big rocking chairs and I think the only time I was outside was when I absolutely had to be.

Oh, and Saturday morning for my long run of the week.

It was supposed to be eight miles. I did seven, letting the hills and humidity make up one mile, since the most logical route was an out-and-back from the lodge to the main entrance. Besides, I stretched my two-miler the previous day to four, so I knew my weekly mileage was covered.

My pace was supposed to be slow, and it was – 13:12 – much slower than I was supposed to go. The killer hills were brutal, and I ended up walking a lot. There were two very good miles, though, where I felt great and ran fast (11:17 and 11:55). I was dripping wet, soaked with sweat and gasping for breath when I got back to our room.

The retreat part of the weekend was inspiring, uplifting and just what we needed. It was nice to get away. And it’s good to be home.