Heat Stroke: It's What's for Dinner

I was feeling restless yesterday so I went for a run. It was after 5pm but it was May in Florida so it was 110 degrees with 110 percent humidity. I was going to run a quick five miles, which turned into five kilometers at the top of the hill less than a quarter of a mile into the run. I’ve been running pretty regularly for more than two years but it still shocks the hell out of me how much difference the temperature makes in running performance. I hadn’t run in a couple of weeks but I’ve been doing a lot on the elliptical machine so I’m in decent cardiovascular shape. I wasn’t pushing myself because I knew my legs weren’t up for anything serious. I was refusing to let myself run the first mile in less than ten minutes. My attitude had changed three minutes in at the top of the hill to just do three miles. I was inhaling but I guess the part of the world I was running in was low on oxygen because I was getting nothing. Why doesn’t oxygen work over eighty degrees? If it’s seventy degrees or cooler I can dial in at about a ten minute mile and run forever. Training for the River Run was fun. Running yesterday was agony. It didn’t help that I had just finished a couple of helpings of spaghetti right before I ran. I was wondering if I would slow down if I started to feel sick or would I just blow chunks on the sidewalk like it was nothing because I wanted the run to be over. Fortunately, I never had to make that choice. I ran 3.2 miles in just over thirty minutes, which should have been no big deal, and I’m feeling it today. My legs are sore and they shouldn’t be. Unfortunately, I’m at a macho crossroads. On the one hand, I’m thinking about running before dawn because it’s fun and relatively pain free. On the other hand, I’m thinking about running at 2pm everyday and seeing if I can get used to it.

…to be continued.

Ricardo Montalban Died Today

Ricardo Montalban died today at 88. The Mexican actor made a splash in the late ‘40’s in Hollywood musicals and had a long running stint as Mr. Roarke on Fantasy Island – even after it got weird. He is best known for pimping the Chrysler LeBaron with its rich Corinthian leather during the ‘80’s and as Khan Noonien Singh the genetically enhanced super-villain who cost Spock his life, but more importantly went macho-a-macho with James T. Kirk. He was so absolutely, totally, completely, an unmitigated badass that, although he only showed up on one episode of Star Trek, they made a movie about him fifteen years later. Consider the subtitles for the Star Trek movies: Generations, The Voyage Home, Sulu’s story: We’re Queer and We’re Here. But when Señor Montalban signed on they came up with The Wrath of Khan as a subtitle for the second Star Trek movie because his machismo dictated it. The Wrath of Khan was a great movie not just because Kirk had finally met his equal in deep space pimpery but also because Montalban took bigger bites out of the scenery than Shatner. I know all the other performers spent most of their time checking their bank balances to make sure the checks had cleared. Money was the only thing that kept them on the set. If you haven’t seen the movie, this is the Cliff’s Notes version

Montalban: KOOOOUUUUUURRRRRRKKKK!!! (that’s Kirk with a Mexican accent)

Shatner: KAAAAAAHHHHHHHNNNNNN!!! (that’s Kahn with a Canadian accent)

Although, near the end, Leonard Nimoy has quite the scene chewing soliloquy, only to be upstaged a minute later by Shatner’s fake trembling lip. Don’t bring Kool-Aid to a gin party. But the greatest part of the movie, and the reason Ricardo Montalban is in Cooperstown, was Kahn’s chest. Bill Murray once asked, “Quien es mas macho, Fernando Lamas o Ricardo Montalban?” Only God knows for sure, but I think I have a pretty good idea.