Martha and George Washington, it was hot and humid at the Steamtown Marathon.
I thought surely a trip above the Mason-Dixon Line would mean cooler temperatures. Alas no. Well, at least Scranton wasn’t Chicago. We had some cloud cover and thoroughly prepared race officials. We even had water. Actual water.
I ran a 3:25. My fastest time yet.
For those keeping score at home, this does not get me to Boston. I need a 3:15 for that. But given the conditions, I’ll take the PR and get back to training for my next assault on the windmill.
You’re going to want to hear about Steamtown, which I think I liked. It was an odd weekend, all told. I enjoyed myself, ran a quirky course, met new people, drove way too much, savaged my quads, sweat streaks of blue ink, and generally felt like I was still in the South.