Yet it's still freaking boiling.
This morning I went out for my semi-daily run in a fantastically heavy rainstorm. It was lovely, I didn't get too hot and there is a freedom that you get from running in rain that you don't find in normal running.
Unfortunately the night before I put some fast punk and metal tracks on my mp3 player to run to. Biiiiig mistake. My pacing went right out the window. I'm charging through the rain, guitars screaming in my ears, machine gun drumming forcing me forward and all I can think is "run faster, run harder, run faster, run harder". It was such a rush. I was quite literally, to quote Sensei Mick; 'Dizzy With Power And Rage!'
But now I'm back home. My thighs are angry. Very angry.
I'm going to pay for this one.
***Update - woke up next morning and my body held a meeting while I was asleep. It would seem my thighs talked to my shins, and now they are angry at me too. My thighs and shins tried talking to my suspect broken/bruised foot but communications broke down. My left foot has now declared itself an independant state and is hell bent on torturing me. It's requests: deep heat and rest .***