Hot in the City

It's a beautiful day, they said. Days like this are rare in Ireland, they said. Go and enjoy, it will be grand, they said.

It was not grand.

I nearly died, let me tell you.

My calves did not hurt at all during the third week's long run of 9km.Everyone who has ever started exercising something new knows that there will be pain for the first weeks and it is okay to work through it if it is muscle pain. Only if it's muscle pain and you know that it's not something else. The only way muscle tissue gets stronger is through use.
Sunday was hot. The entire last week was hot and this week will be too. The average temperature is around 25C in the shade. You may think that this sounds pleasant or even lower than you prefer your summer to be but for me it's uncomfortably hot - I don't tolerate heat well.

I wanted to stop as soon as I had turned around for the run back, only after 5.5 kilometres.

A cool wind is just about the only thing that gives hot weather a semblance of normality. In Dublin the average wind speed seems to be around 20mph (yes, miles, so...30kph) from experience; I'm sure official figures disagree. I have run in wind over 35mph (55kph) and it is hard going. Yesterday it was somewhere between 25 and 30km/h. As usual, when running by the shore, the wind was from east, right in my face. It was not easy but by the gods it was pleasantly cool.

On my way back, however, the wind stopped intermittently and heat took a toll on me. I'm the person on the bus who passes out when the windows are closed and I'm standing up. I'm the person who passed out in class once because it was too hot.

As soon as my 9km were done I walked and it was such a relief. The walk home took about half an hour and I managed to take a few pictures. I cross the river Liffey on my way out and back.

There was a new boat in dock. She was called Sea Cloud II. What the hell is a sea cloud and what happened to the first one?

My brain was wonky from the heat so this is a rather pathetic attempt at photographing the Samuel Beckett Bridge. It's a suspension bridge and one can feel it move when walking across.

Many a young lad jumps off the bridge in the summer on days like these. Every time I see them I hope that no one has tossed a bike off the side. Am I getting old because I don't want the stupid kids to impale themselves on a rusty broken trolley and die a horrible death, bleeding into the murky brown waters of the Liffey?

Looking west off the bridge one can see the Dublin city centre. 

 

To the east and south (also north, but that is behind me) is a rather sterile concrete and glass jungle of office buildings apartment blocks, the IFSC - and right by the water sits the old Ferryman pub, a pre Celtic Tiger relic that remains popular, unlike half the apartments in the IFSC that sit empty, expensive and unwanted. Like most pubs, The Ferryman has lovely flower arrangements hanging outside the windows but I don't think you can see those in the picture. Those arrangements are almost the size of a tiny car.

I took an accidental picture of my foot. These shoes are actually huge. I've misplaced my ankle socks and had to run in these long 1000-Mile socks instead. I bought these because they are double-layer, not because of some snake oil compression crap.

Close to home there's a railway bridge. The sound of trains does not bother me in the least; I don't notice them when I'm home. I lived close to another railway a long time and distance away.

Under the bridge lives the Pizza Troll.

The Pizza Troll eats a large pizza every Friday, leaving behind the box and crusts. This weekend I counted three big boxes and three little ones. Either the Pizza Troll had friends over or it had been dumped by another troll and sat there crying and binging on meatballs, mozzarella and pepperoni. I took a picture of the leftovers as well but it was NSF humans.

As lovely as the sun is - and I really do miss it when it's cold, overcast and raining like the average Irish summer - I hope the heat stops soon because I'm not sure how safe it is for me to run like I did on Sunday. I didn't bring any water; I'm sure that did not help but carrying around a bottle seems cumbersome and sweaty. Hip-level belts have never worked with my body type, they don't stay in place, so I wonder how a hydration belt would sit.

My 'lap' times were very stable around 6:30 per kilometer with only a few seconds either way, which was an improvement of about 20s over last week's very painful run. I'm not fast but I'm fine with that because this really is not about speed. It is an experiment in endurance for me.