I had this really gnarly picture of my red swollen foot and toe to post (including a lovely black toenail) but then I decided that I like myself too much to leave that image in the minds of the three people who actually read my blog. So instead, I decided to post a picture of the little bast**d who caused it all.

It's a long story, but about a month ago I got stung by a wasp on the toe. No big deal. It hurt immensely for about a minute, and then I was fine. Well, last Wednesday I was enjoying the weather out on my deck when I felt excruciating pain in my toe. I looked down, and there was a wasp caught in my sandal. It hurt like heck for about a minute, but unlike the sting two weeks before, it didn't stop hurting. It continued to throb at a level eight on the pain scale for the next 24 hours. It hurt so much, I had to take two days off from running. Can you believe it? Of all of the places that little bee-stard could have stung me it had to be on the toe. After the pain stopped, it started itching so much that I was positive I would either kill someone or have to be committed.

That's the bad news. The good news is, the two days of rest gave a real boost to my running. I did the Elk Meadow run last Friday, two days after the sting. My foot was still swollen, and I had to loosen my shoelaces to get it to fit inside my running shoe. I was kind of dreading the run because the week before I had done two loops and it nearly killed me. This time around I was going to be doing three loops. The extra rest must have helped, because I felt awesome. It was a chilly day for August (around 60 degrees) and I felt like I could do another loop by the time I finished. The only negative is that my hydration pack (a Camelbak Flashflo) started leaking and I was drenched for almost the entire run. It felt like I was running with ice packs on my butt (hmm...maybe I should try this). Unfortunately, it took a very painful wasp sting to once again teach me the importance of rest.

I wish I could say today's 12-miler went as well. I really underestimated the effect the heat would have on me. I had to do my long run in Denver because I needed my mother-in-law to watch my kids. It was 95 degrees down there. I haven't run in that kind of heat in six years. I felt great for the first six miles, but when I turned around to head back, I felt like I did during my marathon death march in the 2000 Rock n' Roll Marathon in San Diego. I know my electrolytes must have been really messed up because I had chills, even though it was 95 degrees outside. I started out at about a 9 minute pace and finished the last two miles at around a 12 minute pace. I used my new hydration belt (the Fuel Belt Endurance - which I love by the way - and it doesn't leak). It holds 40 ounces and I refilled it once. I went through nearly 80 ounces of water. I felt so cruddy. When I stopped to walk for my cool down, my heart rate remained in the 140s for more than ten minutes. I feel normal now, just a bit sore from running on the concrete. It's funny how I can set off on a run feeling like Super Woman and return home feeling more like Droopy the Dog. Thank god I didn't head out for an 18-miler (that's next week). If it's 95 degrees on the day of my next long run, I think I'll stay inside and do it on the dreadmill.

Just in case you were wondering, Rush is almost weaned. He's still doing the first thing in the morning feeding, but that's it. I think I'll let him keep this one for the next couple of weeks. Then I'm a free woman. More later.