I was dong my annual training run at my parent’s place today. Basically I start from their home, run west on the highway towards the mountains until I run out of road, and then I turn around and run back until I’ve accumulated 50km. My father is nice enough to accompany me in the car. He spends the time reading, listening to news, and enjoying the scenery.
This time was slightly different. I got up very early today, and was able to set off at around 5:30 in the morning. I told my family I would have enough water for three hours of running, so why don’t they sleep in. It was nice and cool out, good for running. I was a little concerned that in the distant mountains it looked like it was raining, but that was a problem for the future. However, ten minutes in, I noticed that my back was getting rather wetter than sweat should allow. Even accounting for the slight drizzle.
I checked. My water backpack had sprung a pinhole leak. I figured that I would just ignore it and drink the water quickly before it all drained away. That sounded like a reasonable plan.
Five minutes later there was a waterfall going down my legs. That small leak had ripped open into a gushing torrent. I was quickly out of water, and it had gone all over my shoes.
Wet feet are not something you want as a runner. It is a recipe for blisters.
In the end however, everything worked out. I was wearing new socks that seemed to do a good job of blister prevention; I finished the run without any. My father arrived twenty minutes after I had finished my Gatorade bottle so I had liquid again. I did the run, and ended it feeling strong and vital. I could have kept running, but I chose not to.
We just finished watching Run Fatboy Run. That is still a great movie.