Estivation (es ta vā' shan) n. A period of torpor in the summer months

I'm very glad to be logging some real mileage again -- 19 miles last week, 20 miles this week. As usual for a Houston summer, it's blazing hot out there, and it's taking some discipline to not just curl up on the couch with a half-gallon tub of Rocky Road. With continued consistency I hope to be able to gently merge into an actual marathon training plan next month. My achilles tendon is still a little tender, but lately it hasn't truly flared up as it had been in the spring. I've decided to put the glucosamine supplement on the shelf indefinitely. I suspect it's been creating an adverse reaction I had not anticipated. I'll still be taking care to patiently warm up and stretch before every run, though.

My decision to come live in the web of trails that snake through the Energy Corridor is paying dividends. I love walking out my door and striding on crushed gravel mere minutes later. Speaking of "snake," I spotted a real attention-getter on yesterday's trek -- a Texas coral snake, one of the rare venomous species that inhabit the area. This specimen was less than a foot long and no thicker than my pinky. It was crossing the concrete path next to the creek in broad daylight. To my relief, though, it was definitely not interested in a confrontation with homo sapiens. I did find myself wishing that I had brought my camera to capture the striking beauty of its color banding before it disappeared into the underbrush.

Otherwise, August is a very quiet month, running-wise, and it's reflected in the thin selection of race events in the area. Once again I've embraced a lot of night running as a way to avoid the sun. I feel as if I'm in a state of anticipatory estivation, hiding away from the beating heat, patiently awaiting the refreshment of autumn.