Heat training started in earnest last night (Monday).
The looks on the faces of the fine folks in the health club sauna...well, I wish I could put a price on their stares. I'd make more than a few bucks.
The temperature on the (notoriously unreliable) thermometer registered a steady 170 degrees F...ample to fry the brain of the ignorant ultrarunner who comes into this cedar box unprepared for its unforgiving ways. I split the 30 minute session into three parts: 10 minutes of sitting, 10 minutes of pacing, and another 10 minutes of sitting.
I almost made the entire 30 minutes. With 2 minutes left, it was more than I could take, and I had to exit. That's o.k. A journey of a thousand miles... (or in this case, a journey of 135-miles in Death Valley...).
Thanks for taking this (warm) journey with me. My best to all of my friends (especially my peeps from the 503, the 541, the 206, the 360, the 425, and the 509) who find themselves in Squaw Valley/Auburn, CaliforniAY for the Super Bowl of ultrarunning, the Western States 100. I spoke with friend Gail this evening, who hopes to simply finish the race. She will. Friend Ronda has put forth some informative missives on her dealings with the heat as she gets ready to toe the line at Squaw on Saturday. After last year's finish line drama, this year is sure to be a doozy. Good luck to all.