Yeah, men sitting in suanas until they can’t stand the 261 degree heat.  I’m so all over that.

I promised myself: When I get to the point where I can no longer stand it, I’ll count 60 seconds and go.

Four seconds later, I decided I could no longer stand it.

So I started counting. One, two, three … It was the longest minute of my life. At 60 I went barreling out. Watching other heats, I’d wondered why even losers came out grinning and raising their hands in victory, but now I knew. The cool air was so beautiful, so redeeming, so life giving. You could French-kiss Osama bin Laden.

I looked at the clock. 3:10? That was it? When did the first guy bolt? “2:40,” I was told. Which meant I’d counted my 60 seconds in 30.

via ‘Sports From Hell’ by Rick Reilly book excerpt – ESPN.

Advertisements