Sometimes staying hydrated in the winter can be something of a trick. The constant circulation of stale air when the furnace kicks on. The desire for tasty warm beverages like coffee and cocoa instead of water. Seriously, who wants to drink cold water when it is fourteen degrees outside?
Even though it reminds me of what I imagine the Arctic to be like when I step outside, I still manage to work up a meager sweat that needs replenishing. The lack of sweat corresponds nicely with the lack of deliciousness that a tall icy-cold glass of water garners in the dead of the winter.
Unfortunately, when it gets too cold, or for some other reason we take to the treadmill, the balance of sweat and water intake gets totally smashed. Instead of barely sweating, I could drown ants in my sluices of sweat. About ten minutes in, I start getting hot. I can feel the little beads of sweat slowly coming together on my back and chest. From there it is not long until I am dripping - sweat pouring down my chin and flying from my elbows with every stride. Of course I do not use a water bottle. I am running less than an hour - certainly no need for a water bottle.
While I am running I cannot wait for a pull of some fresh cold water, of course as soon as I stop, the cold sets in and all I want is something warm - like coffee. The treadmill lulls you into a false sense of temperature. At least running in the sweltering Georgian afternoons, I knew I was hot when I was done. As soon as I hop of the treadmill I look out the window, see snow and my body quickly recalls that it is only fourteen degrees outside, not the 90 it feels like on the treadmill.
Before you know it, your lips are cracked and bleeding, your pee is beyond golden, and you are two steps away from spending the next week in a hospital bed with an IV stabbing your arm. Thank you, you nasty treadmill.
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