Squelch!

Last night I had my first ‘squelch’ run of 2014.  I first heard mutterings about this phenomenon last summer, when veterans at running club talked about defying this curious squelch and continuing to run outdoors through the summer months regardless.  Others in the club were a bit less gung-ho, and a bit less ready to charge headlong into squelch battle; they planned instead to move indoors for  couple of months to enjoy the temporary respite of the air conditioned running track (only available for a short period each year at the peak of summer).

Yep, it did indeed feel more like 46 degrees than a mild 36

I assumed ‘squelch’ was a reference to the level of humidity in the air in general.  And that probably, the July and August conditions would be so hot and sticky even at 6am that before you’d run very far at all, you’d find yourself pretty wringing with your own sweat.  “But I bet it’s kind of like when you run in good old fashioned UK rain”, I mused to myself, “once you’re soaked you’re soaked, it’s not like you can get any wetter.”

Naively I didn’t realize that the squelch experience is in fact a literal one.  Yes you have sweat dripping into your eyes, trickling down your arms, and streaking your sunblock within a mile.  No surprises there.   But the penny drop moment for me came on a group run last year when I noticed that a couple of the fellows running in front of me were tracking wet footprints along a dusty boulevard.  “Huh?” I thought, “I haven’t seen any puddles?” (Puddles!  How very foolish of me!)  And I realized that what had happened was, they’d soaked their trainers from the inside out.  They were sweating so copiously in such humid conditions that it just wasn’t possible for their sweat to evaporate efficiently from their skin.  And there was an audible sound of Squelch! with each footfall!  Right squelch left squelch!

In the interests of candour, let me be clear, I wasn’t exactly wafting along myself in fragrant powder puff dryness.  A quick look backwards showed I’d squelched a non-too-delicate Hansel and Gretel trail of my own size 7.5’s all along the sandy pavement.

Not dripping but distinctly soggy

Bogfoot!  Revolting!!

So, last night’s run established two things.  First, it’s now officially track time for me.  And second, the cliché is so true – men sweat, ladies perspire, brides glow, and Striders Squelch!