Sweating or panting?

6 miles (9.65 km) 45.33 min

Warm and pleasant day yesterday. Cherry trees starting to blossom. Farmers rushing around like mad spreading muck on fields allocated for summer crops. Awful stink of ammonia hanging in the air everywhere. Fields with winter crops which had been fresh green for the past couple of weeks are suddenly getting a shade of yellow.

It is warm, and, as we go past the 3 mile mark, a narrow bridge over the river, drops of sweat start rolling down my face. Dogs don't sweat - they pant. The hotter they get the longer they stick their tongues out and the faster the panting.

When we come back they roll on the grass and then lie down on the slate-paved patio with heads between the front paws. Wet round patches of condensation form around their noses. First slug of the year is slowly making its way round the edge of a dog's bowl.

I give Nala and Strelka their after-run milk, and go through my stretches thinking, would I rather pant than sweat. Horses sweat, men perspire and ladies glow. There is something cleansing about sweat, it is like washing yourself from inside.

And, as I step into the hot shower, I think to myself nothing beats the salty taste of sweat, as you wash it off the body.