Oh, the pressure

Go me. I managed to run for twenty whole minutes this afternoon, though I thought I might be crushed by the pre-thunderstorm air. 80 degrees and humid (for this state) wasn't so nice, either. Elevation or water in the air - I can deal (almost) with one at a time, but both just about killed me. I haven't panted so hard since I first saw that clip of Iker running around in his undies after the Euro final. There was a breeze, but its main function seemed to be shoving bricks of warm air into my face every time I tried to breath. Best of all, my pores have soaked up so much chlorine over the past couple days of lessons that every gallon of sweat that dripped off me smelled like it could have come directly from the pool. It's the only thing worse than sweating tequila.