Little Lance

I'm thinking differently about running these days. The vacation cleared away a few cobwebs. I'm beginning to think about training again, not just running.

A buddy who is planning to run an arduous November marathon, the Flying Monkey, has invited me to join his young buck group on Wednesday and Saturday runs. Much of their training is in the hilly Percy Warner Park, home of their goal race. Of course, I'll let you know how those runs go.

On Monday, I ran four miles; yesterday morning, I ran five. Both runs were in 90-plus percent humidity. After the five-miler, I looked like a swimmer emerging from a pool. It was a tough run, but I conquered my little Ventoux.

Will has been on his bike every day since the end of the Tour de France. I know what's going through his mind - the same dreams I conjured, transposing myself to an athlete I admired. Jack Nicklaus was a favorite.

Will asked if he could ride tomorrow morning alongside me. Done. I'm looking forward to it, even though Weather.com says 97% humidity. Sweating profusely is part of late July, and now I'll have a new morning friend.