So I have an exciting new addition to the dorky running clothes. I now have dorky running sunglasses. Previously, I felt these were quite unnecessary because I wear transitions lenses in my prescription glasses and they get pretty dark these days. However, I have realized I really can't wear my glasses when I run because they tend to bounce off my face. Likely at worst this would result in a lense getting scratched if they landed badly, but I admit I have images of them getting run over by a car or something, leaving me stranded, badly nearsighted, out somewhere in the back roads of my town when I don't have a very good sense of direction to begin with.
I have contacts. In fact I used to wear them basically all the time, until I attended law school and spent much of my time reading. They tend to irritate my eyes after a while, so I got used to the glasses again. I still have lots. They're a prescription behind how bad my vision actually is these days (but the lenses themselves, thankfully, have not expired). But for running, that's fine as it's mostly driving distances that are affected. So I figured, heck. Better to spend like nine bucks on a cheap pair of runny-no-slippy sports lenses than it would be to replace my glasses if something happened.
Running without some form of vision correction is quite out of the question. I have only slightly better vision than a blind person. Perhaps you feel I am being insensitive to the vision impaired by being flip. I am, in fact, accurately describing how nearsighted I actually am.* I am surprised I can find my way out of my bedroom and into my bathroom at two AM when I have to pee without ending up in Tuscon or something.
I got nifty little pink Ironman Girl sports glasses at Target. Okay. So they're not so nifty. They make me look like a deformed dragonfly. And I wore them out today, mostly to make sure they'd stay on my face.
Today, in what was quite literally the RUN FROM HECK.
I expected today's run to be a weather challenge, honestly. We were supposed to get heavy rain and strong, gusty winds, but it wasn't supposed to be dangerous if I got out early so I went, well, I'll just get out early. There's no guarantee the weather will be perfect at Disney, after all. I mean, it is in Florida.**
My first attempt to get out the door--when it was in the mid sixties and raining--failed. I had forgotten to charge both my iPod AND my Garmin. I can run without them. I refuse to do so unless there is somebody present to talk to and pace me. Yes, yes, probably it would build character. Still not doing it. So I went in and let them charge. I had a phone appointment, though, which meant I didn't really get back out until about one PM.
I checked the forecast before I stepped outside and I was a bit concerned because we were under a high wind warning. I was also assured the high would be something like 72. I decided to run around the block, just in case a tornado should appear or something and try to suck me to Oz.
HAH.
Wind? What wind? It was still, which was a shame about half the time, because it was exceedingly humid, so the air felt like it was trying to squish me. I felt rather as if I was running through jello, except hopefully the jello would have been cool and it was, in fact, eighty, not seventy-two. So I was not cool. I felt like I was running in a steam room.
Except, of course, when it was gusting up over twenty five miles an hour, and I therefore felt like I was running in a wind turbine.
I normally don't have to blackmail myself to stay out. Today I did. Toady it was "I'll just do one more interval. Well. No I'll do two because I'm more like two away from the house. Oh. and now it's breezy. Okay. So I'll do one more. Oh $#!% the wind stopped. But now I'm like two intervals away again."
I was drenched. I was hot. I was even slower than normal. I lost an minute per mile off both my run and walk speeds.
I am pleased to report I finished the workout and the dorky dragonfly glasses stayed on my face, and did not bounce off. But that was abnormally exhausting, man. I need a nap.
* I worked, as one of my many, many, many college jobs, as an optical assistant. This was a handy job to have as I am quite nearsighted. I used to listen to people with little -0.25 mild vision correction needs whine about being blind as a bat. I wanted to sock them, because at the time I was already more than a -6.00 in both eyes and it's only gotten worse; I'm above a -7 now and I'd have to check, but I think I might have cracked a -8 in my left eye. For the record, the "average" strength of your average myopia corrective lense is a -3. I am notable for wearing large, black frames. This is not because they are frequently trendy. This is to ensure I can see them if they are not on my face--if, for instance, they have bounced off from the sheer force of my running and are now laying on the grassy strip by the cocker spaniel leavings. Yuck! Yuck!
** I have a very good friend who's a native Floridian. His tales of running ten milers in high heat AND high humidity are frightening, and he's a dude, which means he can take his shirt off at least. I can't. Well. I could. But we already established I don't want to get arrested for public indecency. He has also never seen snow, I might add. Some day when I am a rich and powerful attorney I will fly him to Vermont in January so I can hit him with a snowball.
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