Smells like teen spirit

It is officially hot in Phoenix: 100 degrees and it is still April.  I love the heat, but I don't love the way the heat makes me smell.

I would not classify myself as an overly stinky person.  I've never been told I stink by anyone other than my wife.  And to be fair, she has the scent tracking ability of a bloodhound and the odor discernment of a truffle pig. 

This skill may be hereditary because my children have an odd fascination with stink.  They have a creepy habit of smelling my shoes and clothes immediately following the completion of a run.  And they don't just attempt to get a whiff of odor, they love to get their faces deep into my shoes and socks and inhale the heady aroma of sweat and feet.  Repeatedly.  Because they think it is funny.

And their critique of my manly fragrance following yesterday's 12-mile run?  "Daddy, you smell like cat pee."

Really?  I smell-checked my shirt and they were right.  Cat pee.  Or maybe cat pee mixed with windex, but either way, definitely heavy notes of ammonia.  What could this mean?  Usually, and this according to my wife, I just smell like dirt.  Dirt, like soil and dust, which in my opinion is preferable to the other b.o. classifications of butt, old person stink, or hot trash.

A quick Google search for "sweat smells like ammonia" revealed that I may:
1.  Have renal failure.  Impossible!  My kidneys were stolen from me in 1997 and sold on the black market.
2.  Have been a victim of cat marking by one or both of our cats.  Possible.  We are in a protracted turf war and I have (unsuccessfully) tried to mark our guest bathroom as my territory.  I refuse to cede.
3.  Be burning muscle for fuel while running.  Possible.  Running Doctor reports that eating more carbohydrates before a run could eliminate the ammonia stink.  Done and done.

From now on I will fuel with asparagus in an attempt to have my sweat smell like dirt again and my pee smell like vegetables.

How to protect yourself from airborne fecal matter

Yesterday there were some crazy winds here.  Crazy like trees knocked down, dogs blown into swimming pools, and planes levitating crazy.  Thankfully I completed my run in the early morning before the worst of the hard blowing commenced.  By 10 am, it was Kansas just before Dorthy vacated.

As an added bonus the wind kicked up an estimated 17 billion tons of dust, pollen, leaves, and landscaper business cards and sent it hurtling across the desert.  I didn't see anyone running yesterday afternoon and with good reason.  The air was thick with disgustingness.  It was all too similar to southern Afghanistan, except without as much airborne fecal matter (I hope).

If yesterday's air quality (think Beijing with cacti) were a regular occurrence here, I would probably find myself running with a respirator.  Commonly referred to as a "gas mask" or "meth cook's PPE", a respirator is designed to filter out pollution and poop particles before you breathe them in. 

Is it advisable or even possible to run while wearing a respirator?  Maybe and yes.

Although technically not a respirator, there are "sport" dust masks available to provide some protection against airborne pollutants.  Or you could get a 20-pack of dust masks at Home Depot for less than the cost of a single "sport" mask.  Not ready to make the commitment to air filtration by way of facial accoutrement?  Try breathing through your nose.  When run is complete (or mid-run) blow out the mess of goo collected in your nasal cavity.  Problem solved.

And I can personally attest that running in a full-face respirator is only slightly preferable to actually breathing airborne fecal matter.  While in Afghanistan I once (and only once) ran seven miles in an M45 mask.  I thought my face was going to liquify from heat.  But it was an interesting challenge trying to keep from hyperventilating. 

Three years ago, a motivated Devil Dog set the word record at the Marine Corps Marathon for running in a gas mask.  Apparently he has been surpassed by a few other masqueraders since his initial attempt and subsequent record.

So if you are a mouth breather, meth cooker, zombiephobe, or just allergic to ragweed, head down to The Surplus Superstore: Serving Paranoia and Paramilitary, and stock up on any variety of doomsday headwear.  Your bronchioles thank you.

Sick of it

This past week has definitely been one for the record books.  All kinds of craziness has left me with a decidedly unsettled feeling.  And to top off my mental malaise, I have a cold.

I managed to make it through fall and winter with zero illnesses, only to succumb to a cold right as the temperature outside hits 90 degrees.  I'm wandering around in shorts with pockets bulging with tissues.  Other parents must be thinking, "Oh, we're still doing that?  Where have you been, guy?  A cold is sooooo two months ago."

The only thing left to do now is minimize my viral handicap and attempt to drive on with a daily workout.  How can you decide if you should go running or workout when you are sick?  The recommended litmus test is the location of your symptoms.

Above the neck?  Sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head, fever (low grade), want to rest?  Prognosis: good, go exercise.  Do the best you can at your normally scheduled or easier workout.  

Below the neck?  Gurgling chest, productive cough, wheezing, fever above 99 degrees, vomiting(!), diarrhea(!!)?
Prognosis: Yikes.  Go back to bed and call in sick.  Your body and co-workers will thank you for taking a couple days off.

Please note that I am not a doctor, but I went to college with a guy who is.