I'll get to the dog-eating-Christmas part soon but first things first. I truly believe that testosterone makes you sweat more.
I woke up this morning at some God-forsaken hour to run with the group only to find that, yet again the thermometer hadn't dipped below 23.5C which is about 75 in American. Ugh! And that was the lowest it's been all week. Add to that 90% humidity and you know you've got a sweat-fest ahead.
Coach Chris kindly decided to take us the hilly route and against my better judgement I went with. Could have done my same old-same old flat route but a good friend was up from Canberra and I thought I'd risk the pain and suffering so we could get a little gossip time in. Note to self - gossip and hills don't mix. Gasping monosyllabic answers and hills definitely do.
The first kilometre was fairly flattish and that's when we got all the good goss in. The second kilometre held a few more challenges but it was somewhere around the fourth or fifth kilometre that all conversation ceased (at least on my end). I find that you need some oxygenation to produce sounds that others can understand and yes, grunts count. All I can say is thank goodness for drink stops.
We got to one point where there was a choice to cut the run down to 12k or to continue on to 14. I, of course, bit off more than I can chew and opted for the 14. After all I'd managed my 11 fairly comfortably on Thursday. But I didn't factor into it the lack of hills on Thursday or the ridiculous humidity. My shirt was sticking to me. My shorts were sticking to me. And at every water stop I guzzled water.
I managed to keep going till 12k and then took a little walk break. Thank goodness it wasn't too far to the end. And I hung around after to have a coffee and a little more chat time. I knew I'd sweat a little more than usual because every time I shifted in my seat I could actually feel the puddle of water I was sitting in - gross! And when I took off my shoes my toes had become wrinkled little prunes. I have never sweat so much before in my life. Definitely thinking it's a side-effect of the testosterone.
The run left me totally dehydrated and stupidly tired so as soon as it was feasible I had a nap. Toby was locked out of my room and started to get a bit lonely and bored. A bored and lonely puppy invariably gets up to mischief. Let's just say that Santa has put him on the 'Naughty' list.
And that's why I decided the table top Christmas tree was the only option for us this year. I can only imagine what he would have done with all those carefully-wrapped gifts.
Such a pity that the tree's not six foot. Imagine just how big those gifts would be proportionally. And bigger's always better - right?
Just a couple of days to go now till the big fat man visits. Christmas shopping is done. Now to get rid of the bah humbugs and start to feel a little Christmassy. And if I can't quite manage that by December the 25th, I'm sure an early morning run will keep me from using the turkey-carving knife in ways that it wasn't intended for.
I hope you're all starting to get into the spirit. And if you're not - go for a run.