Salt, Asphalt, and Vanity

No, this is not about the new movie with the buffed out Hollywood amazon chick in it. I am talking about my salty butt after 33 plus miles when I ran a double out & back from Hughes Stadium to Overland Trail along Centennial Drive and Bingham Hill road.

A million asphalt hills for a pathetic 2000 feet of elevation gain and descent in 33 miles and change, for 7 hours, trying to run as close to Lean Horse race pace as possible, the temperature hit 91 degrees until it clouded up and rained in the last 45 minutes.

I parked in the parking lot nearest to the north dam, that gave me four 8-ish mile stretches between water stops. It was warm enough that my frozen water bottles only lasted the 4 miles out from the car each time, so I was drinking warm liquids in the 4 mile approach to the car each time. Until 30 miles when Dennis showed up with a drink cooler full of ice water! That was my reward for the last 3 miles.

I was trying to give my quads an easier time this week. After last week's five Rock Repeats I was sore for almost a week! I couldn't even go down the stairs at work!

When I got home and cleared all my junk out of the car, Dennis said my butt was outlined in salt. He took a picture of it. At least he noticed.

Vanity and middle age is a recurring theme these days. My friends and I joke "DON'T LOOK DOWN!" as the skin on our legs jiggles and gets wrinkly when we run. Some of my friends refuse to wear regular running shorts anymore. They go for the longer lycra shorts that cover their skin down to the knee.

I have found that a little lotion on the quads before a run makes it look not quite so bad, at least from my perspective when I do look down. The person coming toward me might not think so, but who cares.

The gray streak on your head that you can no longer hide, the gray eyebrow hairs that start to outnumber the original color, those pesky little dark chin hairs, the little roll of belly fat that suddenly appears where before you had a flat stomach, the inability to deny the law of gravity, needing to grow longer arms so you can read the fine print, all the things you never had to deal with at 30, are becoming a fact of life you must face beginning at 45 or 50.

There are ways to cover it all up, and I am taking advantage of some of those. I will color my hair until I have so many wrinkles it looks ridiculous on me. Then I will let the gray take over. Wrinkles rule.

Speaking of vanity, I love the new shirt I got this week.