It is another hot day in what is becoming now a lengthy tiresome parade of hot days. They are not record breaking, they are not simmering concrete ovens, and not melting black tar on the road days. Yet if one could scamper under a cool dark shadowy tree or better yet sit beside the frosty whirring blast of an air conditioner it would have to be better than being out here in this for 18 hours a day.
The forecast for a break in this spell of sultriness doesn’t look to be happening any time soon. At best, at least for now, it looks to be potentially lurking in the unpredictable reaches of late week.
After 2 full weeks out here on the block, the runners have been made as road ready as they are ever going to be. If their hides have not toughened by now to the climate, to the pounding, to the pain and fatigue than there is no hope for them. Most find through the day, that a succession of creams and lotions can at least beat back the onslaught of scorching UV. Some though are so weathered and road tough they need no protection at all. The heat though is not the most ferocious adversary that prowls the course of the 3100.
Humidity is another matter all together. No one has found a magic potion or easy cure for when the air itself sloshes and oozes with moisture. When the oxygen about you begins to feel like a thick and binding blanket that can never be thrown off.
The Plane trees along the course have just now begun to throw off their leaves. The sidewalk along by the school became littered by them over night. It almost makes you think it is a scene out of a cool November day instead of a hot one at the end of June. Now there is but a few days more, before the first step is taken into the long steamy cauldron that is a New York July.