So Hot

So so so hot.

I'm not talking about myself.

I'm talking about the weather.

It has been so bloody hot here in Salt Lake City. Like, jaws of Hell hot. Like, so hot that if The First Eye tried to roll down the street in the middle of the day without protective socks, he would be in the E.R. within minutes having burn cream rubbed on each of his 1,000 toes. Can you imagine a worse time to work in that E.R.? Especially if The First Eye happens to have the same foot disease as me.

So on Saturday I thought, "Why not go run in the canyon down the street at 2:00 in the afternoon?" I couldn't really think of a reason not to. So off I went. I drug Daniel with me because I'm trying to convince him to run a marathon with me next month as part of our "unfinished business" pledge from when we participated in the Ironman.


On a side note, it gets a little awkward and tiring to have to explain over and over again what happened in the Ironman. And it doesn't really feel like "we were too slow so they kicked us out" quite communicates exactly what happened. But I'm also not really the lying type. Exaggerate? Sure. But outright lie. No.

So instead I usually find ways to avoid doing either.

"Eli, you did an Ironman recently, didn't you?"

"As a matter of fact I did participate in an Ironman race!"

"That's so great! How was it?"

"Ugh. Loooooong story. Rest assured, it was a good experience for me. Have you heard my story about the Queen of Colors?"

See how that works? No lying AND I don't have to explain away my inadequacies.

All those years of therapy are paying off.

Anyway, we ventured down the street to the canyon, because, yes, Salt Lake City truly is the greatest place ever because I can live in the middle of downtown but be in a canyon to run in about 10 minutes. I don't think I'll ever move away from this place. Crap.

We parked next to the zoo. I'm not much of a zoo guy. Not really sure why. Probably because I'm afraid of all animals. But I also think it has to do with the one consistent truth about zoos that nobody likes to talk about: it is impossible to visit one without feeling like you have animal poop on your clothes and in your mouth and body for the remainder of the month. I guess it's not so bad if you plan your zoo trip for later in the month. But do it during the first week, then, well, you get what you deserve.

We brought water bottles with us because it seemed like the responsible thing to do. I offered to share the carrying duty with Daniel, but allowed him to carry them first. As is usual, by the time it was my turn, the bottles were empty. I'm basically a genius. Or a bad person. Or both. Whatever. I didn't have to carry the water bottles while they were full.

It wasn't long before we realized that our run in the blazing hot sun was poorly planned. Within 10 minutes, all of the water in my body had been spilled through my pours onto the street, rendering a lifetime of dedicated hydration totally worthless. Now I have to start over. So annoyed.

But it was about 35 minutes in that I started looking for a part of the canyon that was wide enough for a helicopter to lower into, sure that being life-flighted to the nearest hospital was now going to make it into my life's book of experiences. It's bound to happen at some point, anyway.

Then we remembered that an icy stream runs along-side the road so we sought its banks for reprieve. Well, one of us did. The taller of us was skeptical. Maybe it was the floating dead animals or fly-infested air directly above the water. Or it might have had something to do with my over-sharing of an experience when two summers ago I got so desperate that I drank from said stream and then evidently swallowed a garbage disposal and civil war cannon in the process because for the next 2 months everything I ate seemed to go through both apparatuses inside my body, in that order. TMI? Lo siento.

So I bathed in the filth, but avoided swallowing the water. Don't need to learn that lesson 5 different times!

Before too long we gave up our hopes of running an impressive distance and instead retreated back down the canyon like a Glee fan confronted with rationality.

By the time we got to the car, I had lost the will to live.

I never want to experience heat again.

Oh, did I mention I'm moving to the equator in a few months?

~It Just Gets Stranger