Sweat Fest

"Girl, I want to make you sweat
Sweat 'til you can't sweat no more"

I'm blessed with good pores.  I somehow associate the quality of the workout with the amount of sweat generated.  This would also explain why I initially had a mental block around swimming as a workout as it's impossible to measure how much sweat I'm generating in the water.  Today set a new high, or a new low in sweat volume.  A perfect storm if you will as far as sweat goes.  Yesterday threw an uber aggressive interval run session at me early in the morning before heading out of town (ironically to Boston) for work.  Last night included a Thai dinner with a few beers at the Golden Gloves boxing championship in Lowell, Mass. The championships were at legendary Lowell Auditorium that produced boxing greats Rocky Marciano and Marvin Hagler.  It just seemed right to drink a couple cold ones in this environment.

Let's just say if your engine is running hot from the run the day before and you add beer and Thai food, you're in for a tsunami of sweat for your morning run.  Add the fact that the run was in a cramped hotel workout room (smaller than my bedroom,) and you're in for a sweat fest.

I've determined my new run coach is a bit of a sadomasochist so her idea of a recovery day after my tough Tuesday workout was a 90 minute run.  Short on sleep (five hours at best,) I dragged my groggy ass into the tiny workout run and fired up my (loaned) iPod and dialed in a nice steady pace of 9:05 for my recovery run.  You're probably already repulsed by this post, but you're still reading.  I normally start the real sweating around the ten minute mark, but the engine started heating up in the first few minutes.  I'm not quite sure what "wicking apparel" is supposed to do, but it didn't appear to be working.  My clothes were completely drenched with this run of the mill run.  Wetter than a dog in a pond.

I finished the run feeling strong and began to wipe down the treadmill and my phone which was perched on the dashboard. #gross.  I proceeded to gross out the lobby inhabitants grazing on breakfast at the Marriott Residence Inn before I headed upstairs to take a conference call.  Midway through the call, they claimed they couldn't hear me.  The call ended awkwardly and I went along to my morning appointment.  I "connected the dots" when my second call didn't work.  I doused my Samsung Galaxy S3.  I ruined my second phone within six months.  My last one went for a ride in my washer at home.  (Not recommended as a way to clean your phone.)

I'm not sure where I'm going with all this other than the moral of the story is, "Ty shouldn't eat Thai, drink beer, and perch the phone on the treadmill if I expect to work that day."  Note to self...if I don't want to work a particular day, eat Thai, drink beer, and perch my phone on the treadmill.


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