Four Point Four Miles that I Should Not Have Run

Two days ago in New York City the hottest temperatures of the Summer were recorded.  The Sun was quite punishing, resembling a south western US Sun.  The thermometer had already breached the 90 degree mark during my morning commute without a cloud in the sky.  The bewildered looks and smiles from pedestrians were in full force.  Roughly three miles and a couple shirtless Times Square photo bombs later I was freshening up for the work day, but this would only be a half day.

On this Thursday I happened to have two separate work-related parties, both in outdoor areas close to each other.  The afternoon roles around and I arrive at the first function after a light jog clocking in at around a mile and a half.  I immediately go for the water and watermelon pieces, but I can not deny the strong desire for a beer.  Why not?  Here I am on a hot day at a party with free booze (and some quality booze at that) and I want to have a good time.  Beers follow some shots follow some more beers, all accompanied by fun conversation.  I become increasingly loose as my motor skills deplete while my hydration levels are going in the wrong direction given the day's conditions.

On my way two the second function, (just a short walk along the river),  I'm still comfortably in control of myself, but I'm not quite the same dude I was an hour earlier.  The beers continue at a moderate but steady pace.  I try to make a bit of an effort to drink enough water, but in retrospect I don't think I did.  Now, to be clear, I had quite the fun time and I never got to a point where I did anything I regret.  That said, by the end of party number two I was thoroughly inebriated and dehydrated to a meaningful level that I wasn't able to recognize.  It is in this state that I ran 4.4 miles home; a run that I don't remember going on.  

When it comes to alcohol and running, there is buzzed running and there is running while intoxicated.  The later, performed in a city like this right around the tail end of rush hour by a running enthusiast is a terrible idea; one's confidence levels are sky high while their reaction time is poor at best. Since that evening I have been able to recall split second images from that run home: fast and loose weaving through city streets taking advantage of windows of opportunity abound, I'm sure.  The first solid memory I have following a few distinct ones from the party is guzzling water by the liter and lying down in a cold shower for a decent while.

I'm confident that I came close to heat exhaustion, and quite possibly involvement in a traffic accident or two, and I regret what I did.  Given my reputation at the office, I think I was almost expected to run wee wee wee all the way home, but I can not let pride drive me down murky roads as I did.  I woke up the next day feeling fine (I did honestly consume close to three liters of water in twenty minutes that evening) but with a lot on my mind.  I hope I never have to recount something like this again and I will take the steps that I can to that end.  Stay safe, stay cool, and use your head.

Quira Ba