I want this to happen to my face every time I run in the heat. (Photo by Rich Cruse/ITU via Getty Images)
Mid-May: the best, but the worst. Gone are the crisp, cool mornings of April, replaced by increasingly warm mornings, some of which just plain feel hot. The sun's more prone to peek its head out and stay a while -- but it ain't holdin' back, either. Soon, the sun will lean more and more aggressively downward, becoming less of a delight and more of a nuisance than anything else. For now the sun is bright and still feels new as the memories of winter fade; the cool evening breeze makes the world at large calm and bearable. Spontaneous thunder showers are still fresh and cool, leaving slow-crawling worms and the smell of ozone in their wake.
This weather will soon be behind us here in the Mid-Atlantic, to be replaced by high temperatures and humidity that make daytime runs unbearable. Early-June temperatures become increasingly difficult -- at times hitting mid-90s -- making the early morning the only possible respite from the heat. Then the real bulk of summer hits, and 5:30 am becomes my own personal Obi-Wan Kenobi.
With the end of the school year approaching, visitors to the city are descending upon DC's open spaces, serving to reminding we denizens that the city is no longer ours for the next few months. Runs will slow because of the temperatures, then slow further still because of the hordes of tourists intent on 'using perspective' to lean up against the Washington Monument (or, you know, pretend the obelisk is a giant penis). Save semi-hidden places like Rock Creek Park, my runs will soon become far less solitary and far more at the mercy of crowds. Soon enough, hydration will become less of a reality and more of a Platonic ideal. At least the Mall has easily-accessed water fountains.
My nose will be mildly sunburnt for the next 4 months.
So enjoy the next few weeks, because once Memmy Day hits the summer will be here and we runners will be at its mercy. Until then, here's to the short bursts of breeze and dewy mornings -- they're not long for this world.