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Chicago: A Tale of (At Least) Three Races

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12 October 2007
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14 October 2007
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Daniel-San
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  1. I figured I'd let the controversy marinate and settle before throwing my
    experiences into the ring.

    Here goes:

    It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...err...no, not quite,
    but something like that. The training was over, time for the race.

    Got to the start chute/corral/herd around 7:15. Yakked with a few people,
    most, like me, seemed a little nervous about the weather. Yeah, we agreed,
    we'd trained in the heat and humidity, but with a month or so of cool
    weather, had we lost whatever acclimatization we might have had?

    The start, and the first seven or so miles, is race number one:

    The start was essentially the same as last year. A herd of people pressing
    their way up to the line, just barely resisting the urge to trample those in
    front. I'm not into sensing the "energy" of something, but there's certainly
    something in the air as the timing mat nears. The crowd cheering, the music
    playing, and the almost annoying cowbell clanging brought me to the line.
    Off I go.

    It's hot. Humid, and breezeless, too. By the time we come out from under the
    bridges
    that cover most of the first mile, I'm dripping. Not good. I had planned to
    skip the first couple water stations, as in my training, I usually waited
    until mile five or six to begin the watering. I decided that I'd hit the
    second station, around the third mile, for a quick swig.

    I look at my pace band, I'm hoping for 3:45, but will be quite happy with
    anything sub-4. Mile one, two, three, and four are on pace, plus or minus a
    second or two each. So far, so good.

    I pull into the aid station and grab a cup of Gatorade. Drink it down and
    then grab two cups of water. In training, on a really hot, muggy day, I'd
    drink about four or five ounces of diluted gatorade every mile or so,
    depending on how I felt. The cup of full-strength g-rade (endurance formula,
    which I think translates roughly to "more sugar"😉 did not sit well. I
    started sensing the stomach's displeasure with what I had served it.

    I continue along, exerting far more energy to maintain my pace than I
    normally would. I felt like I was exerting myself for a five-K, not a
    marathon.

    Somewhere in the mile seven or eight range, the stomach decided that things
    would be better if its contents were ejected. How wonderful. I know it's a
    mistake to spend the whole year tarining for one race (all eggs in one
    basket, so to speak) but that's what I did. Now, I spent the next 15 minutes
    or so motionless, puking against a tree, watching the clock tick away. [censored].

    End of race number one.

    Race number two began a few minutes later, when the nausea subsided. A
    started walking a bit, probably going about 1/2 a mile before starting a
    mild jog. Kept going until I saw my wife on the bridge at about mile 12. I
    stopped and told her not to expect me at the finish before noon, most likely
    12:30 or so. A quick smooch and off I go again. For some reason, I started
    feeling really, and I mean *really* good. I pounded out the next 10K or so
    pretty quickly. Felt like those perfect training runs where you wish the
    race was that day rather than a month off. Maybe it was the mild jog, maybe
    I had eaten too much for breakfast and getting rid of it helped. I don't
    know why, but that stretch was great.

    End of race number two.

    Somewhere around mile 18, maybe 19, but close to Pilsen, the weather
    starting getting to me again. Cold sweats replaced real ones. I was starting
    down the dehydration highway. During race number two, I had hit every
    station, drinking about double my normal intake, but it just wasn't enough.
    I probably went at it too hard during the last 10K to keep the fluid intake
    in line with the outflow. Whatever the cause, it was time to slow down. I
    walked thru an aid station, drank a lot of water, ate a gel, and then
    started a lite jog again. Made it to about mile 22 (plus or minus) when the
    police essentially formed a line in front of the herd and physically stopped
    runners. "The race is cancelled. Good Job! You can walk now. Please walk!
    There aren't enough ambulances to take care of everyone. Please walk!"
    Well-intentioned as it was, hearing "the race is cancelled" after 20-odd
    miles is a buzzkill of the highest order. Well, to be honest, after seeing
    the dozens (literally) of people on the side of the road being attended to,
    and factoring in the heat and humidity, I wasn't really gonna argue. So, I
    walked most of the rest of the "race." I jogged a little here and there, but
    was chastised each time by an alert copper of fireman, so the running was
    short-lived. I did manage to run the entire last mile, tho dodging the crowd
    was no easy feat.

    I'm not entirely sure of my finish time, but it's about an hour slower than
    I had hoped for. Oh well. Wait 'till next year, I guess.

    Observations:

    I think the nausea was more food induced than heat induced. I ate what I
    normally ate before a big run (one gel and two clif bars) but I think
    because of the heat and the full strength g-rade, things were not so well
    received.

    The weather. (Cue Good Morning Vietnam) "How hot? Damned hot!" and no
    breeze, sky high humidity, and pretty direct sun made for a crappy day.
    Yeah, I trained in the heat, but on long run days, I got up at 5 and was
    done long before the real heat hit. Maybe that was a mistake.

    Water on the course: For me, there was no shortage of water. After the
    stoppage, there was a shortage of pre-filled cups, but there were pallets of
    water and people pouring. IMO, the problem arose because rather than fill
    cups, the vols at the stations grabbed a gallon and stood there, pouring
    water on people's heads. There may have been other factors, but that's my
    observation.

    Pilsen is still the coolest neighborhood on the tour. By a long shot. Those
    folks get into it.

    Hosing people down at random should be a capital offense. Well, of course
    not really, but the guy who was doing that at mile six soaked my shoes.
    Running (or walking) 20 miles in squishy, soaked shoes sucks.

    The finish area was a GDCF of epic proportions. Calls of "Runner Down" every
    few seconds. People coming in thru the out at a rate of a million a second.
    It probably took me 30 minutes to make the 2 or 3 hundred yard walk from the
    finish line to the gear check area. Really, really, bad. No one had control
    of the area. At least the apples were fresh, cold, and yummy.

    All in all, a really weird day. I look forward to next year.

    -Dan

  2. "Daniel-San" wrote
    |How wonderful. I know it's a
    | mistake to spend the whole year tarining for one race (all eggs in one
    | basket, so to speak) but that's what I did.

    I empathise with you.
    I have my target marathon tomorrow, but got sick (sinus headaches) just in time.
    At least I impulsively decided and ran at Montreal last month.

    | I'm not entirely sure of my finish time, but it's about an hour slower than
    | I had hoped for. Oh well. Wait 'till next year, I guess.

    Congrats! Unlike many others, at least you had finished the race.
    Did they give you a finisher's medal?

    | Observations:
    | I think the nausea was more food induced than heat induced. I ate what I
    | normally ate before a big run (one gel and two clif bars) but I think
    | because of the heat and the full strength g-rade, things were not so well
    | received.

    I usually have normal breakfast (real food) about 2-3 hours before my long
    runs. I save the gels and other stuff for later stages of long runs/races.

  3. On Oct 12, 11:13 am, "Daniel-San" <[email hidden]>

    Quoted message said:

    I figured I'd let the controversy marinate and settle before throwing my
    experiences into the ring.

    Here goes:

    It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...err...no, not quite,
    but something like that. The training was over, time for the race.

    Got to the start chute/corral/herd around 7:15. Yakked with a few people,
    most, like me, seemed a little nervous about the weather. Yeah, we agreed,
    we'd trained in the heat and humidity, but with a month or so of cool
    weather, had we lost whatever acclimatization we might have had?

    The start, and the first seven or so miles, is race number one:

    The start was essentially the same as last year. A herd of people pressing
    their way up to the line, just barely resisting the urge to trample those in
    front. I'm not into sensing the "energy" of something, but there's certainly
    something in the air as the timing mat nears. The crowd cheering, the music
    playing, and the almost annoying cowbell clanging brought me to the line.
    Off I go.

    It's hot. Humid, and breezeless, too. By the time we come out from under the
    bridges
    that cover most of the first mile, I'm dripping. Not good. I had planned to
    skip the first couple water stations, as in my training, I usually waited
    until mile five or six to begin the watering. I decided that I'd hit the
    second station, around the third mile, for a quick swig.

    I look at my pace band, I'm hoping for 3:45, but will be quite happy with
    anything sub-4. Mile one, two, three, and four are on pace, plus or minus a
    second or two each. So far, so good.

    I pull into the aid station and grab a cup of Gatorade. Drink it down and
    then grab two cups of water. In training, on a really hot, muggy day, I'd
    drink about four or five ounces of diluted gatorade every mile or so,
    depending on how I felt. The cup of full-strength g-rade (endurance formula,
    which I think translates roughly to "more sugar"😉 did not sit well. I
    started sensing the stomach's displeasure with what I had served it.

    I continue along, exerting far more energy to maintain my pace than I
    normally would. I felt like I was exerting myself for a five-K, not a
    marathon.

    Somewhere in the mile seven or eight range, the stomach decided that things
    would be better if its contents were ejected. How wonderful. I know it's a
    mistake to spend the whole year tarining for one race (all eggs in one
    basket, so to speak) but that's what I did. Now, I spent the next 15 minutes
    or so motionless, puking against a tree, watching the clock tick away. [censored].

    End of race number one.

    Race number two began a few minutes later, when the nausea subsided. A
    started walking a bit, probably going about 1/2 a mile before starting a
    mild jog. Kept going until I saw my wife on the bridge at about mile 12. I
    stopped and told her not to expect me at the finish before noon, most likely
    12:30 or so. A quick smooch and off I go again. For some reason, I started
    feeling really, and I mean *really* good. I pounded out the next 10K or so
    pretty quickly. Felt like those perfect training runs where you wish the
    race was that day rather than a month off. Maybe it was the mild jog, maybe
    I had eaten too much for breakfast and getting rid of it helped. I don't
    know why, but that stretch was great.

    End of race number two.

    Somewhere around mile 18, maybe 19, but close to Pilsen, the weather
    starting getting to me again. Cold sweats replaced real ones. I was starting
    down the dehydration highway. During race number two, I had hit every
    station, drinking about double my normal intake, but it just wasn't enough.
    I probably went at it too hard during the last 10K to keep the fluid intake
    in line with the outflow. Whatever the cause, it was time to slow down. I
    walked thru an aid station, drank a lot of water, ate a gel, and then
    started a lite jog again. Made it to about mile 22 (plus or minus) when the
    police essentially formed a line in front of the herd and physically stopped
    runners. "The race is cancelled. Good Job! You can walk now. Please walk!
    There aren't enough ambulances to take care of everyone. Please walk!"
    Well-intentioned as it was, hearing "the race is cancelled" after 20-odd
    miles is a buzzkill of the highest order. Well, to be honest, after seeing
    the dozens (literally) of people on the side of the road being attended to,
    and factoring in the heat and humidity, I wasn't really gonna argue. So, I
    walked most of the rest of the "race." I jogged a little here and there, but
    was chastised each time by an alert copper of fireman, so the running was
    short-lived. I did manage to run the entire last mile, tho dodging the crowd
    was no easy feat.

    I'm not entirely sure of my finish time, but it's about an hour slower than
    I had hoped for. Oh well. Wait 'till next year, I guess.

    Observations:

    I think the nausea was more food induced than heat induced. I ate what I
    normally ate before a big run (one gel and two clif bars) but I think
    because of the heat and the full strength g-rade, things were not so well
    received.

    The weather. (Cue Good Morning Vietnam) "How hot? Damned hot!" and no
    breeze, sky high humidity, and pretty direct sun made for a crappy day.
    Yeah, I trained in the heat, but on long run days, I got up at 5 and was
    done long before the real heat hit. Maybe that was a mistake.

    Water on the course: For me, there was no shortage of water. After the
    stoppage, there was a shortage of pre-filled cups, but there were pallets of
    water and people pouring. IMO, the problem arose because rather than fill
    cups, the vols at the stations grabbed a gallon and stood there, pouring
    water on people's heads. There may have been other factors, but that's my
    observation.

    Pilsen is still the coolest neighborhood on the tour. By a long shot. Those
    folks get into it.

    Hosing people down at random should be a capital offense. Well, of course
    not really, but the guy who was doing that at mile six soaked my shoes.
    Running (or walking) 20 miles in squishy, soaked shoes sucks.

    The finish area was a GDCF of epic proportions. Calls of "Runner Down" every
    few seconds. People coming in thru the out at a rate of a million a second.
    It probably took me 30 minutes to make the 2 or 3 hundred yard walk from the
    finish line to the gear check area. Really, really, bad. No one had control
    of the area. At least the apples were fresh, cold, and yummy.

    All in all, a really weird day. I look forward to next year.

    -Dan

    <yawn> no HUGE <YAWN>

  4. On Oct 12, 9:13 am, "Daniel-San" <[email hidden]>

    Quoted message said:

    I figured I'd let the controversy marinate and settle before throwing my
    experiences into the ring.

    Here goes:

    It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...err...no, not quite,
    but something like that. The training was over, time for the race.

    Got to the start chute/corral/herd around 7:15. Yakked with a few people,
    most, like me, seemed a little nervous about the weather. Yeah, we agreed,
    we'd trained in the heat and humidity, but with a month or so of cool
    weather, had we lost whatever acclimatization we might have had?

    The start, and the first seven or so miles, is race number one:

    The start was essentially the same as last year. A herd of people pressing
    their way up to the line, just barely resisting the urge to trample those in
    front. I'm not into sensing the "energy" of something, but there's certainly
    something in the air as the timing mat nears. The crowd cheering, the music
    playing, and the almost annoying cowbell clanging brought me to the line.
    Off I go.

    It's hot. Humid, and breezeless, too. By the time we come out from under the
    bridges
    that cover most of the first mile, I'm dripping. Not good. I had planned to
    skip the first couple water stations, as in my training, I usually waited
    until mile five or six to begin the watering. I decided that I'd hit the
    second station, around the third mile, for a quick swig.

    I look at my pace band, I'm hoping for 3:45, but will be quite happy with
    anything sub-4. Mile one, two, three, and four are on pace, plus or minus a
    second or two each. So far, so good.

    I pull into the aid station and grab a cup of Gatorade. Drink it down and
    then grab two cups of water. In training, on a really hot, muggy day, I'd
    drink about four or five ounces of diluted gatorade every mile or so,
    depending on how I felt. The cup of full-strength g-rade (endurance formula,
    which I think translates roughly to "more sugar"😉 did not sit well. I
    started sensing the stomach's displeasure with what I had served it.

    I continue along, exerting far more energy to maintain my pace than I
    normally would. I felt like I was exerting myself for a five-K, not a
    marathon.

    Somewhere in the mile seven or eight range, the stomach decided that things
    would be better if its contents were ejected. How wonderful. I know it's a
    mistake to spend the whole year tarining for one race (all eggs in one
    basket, so to speak) but that's what I did. Now, I spent the next 15 minutes
    or so motionless, puking against a tree, watching the clock tick away. [censored].

    End of race number one.

    Race number two began a few minutes later, when the nausea subsided. A
    started walking a bit, probably going about 1/2 a mile before starting a
    mild jog. Kept going until I saw my wife on the bridge at about mile 12. I
    stopped and told her not to expect me at the finish before noon, most likely
    12:30 or so. A quick smooch and off I go again. For some reason, I started
    feeling really, and I mean *really* good. I pounded out the next 10K or so
    pretty quickly. Felt like those perfect training runs where you wish the
    race was that day rather than a month off. Maybe it was the mild jog, maybe
    I had eaten too much for breakfast and getting rid of it helped. I don't
    know why, but that stretch was great.

    End of race number two.

    Somewhere around mile 18, maybe 19, but close to Pilsen, the weather
    starting getting to me again. Cold sweats replaced real ones. I was starting
    down the dehydration highway. During race number two, I had hit every
    station, drinking about double my normal intake, but it just wasn't enough.
    I probably went at it too hard during the last 10K to keep the fluid intake
    in line with the outflow. Whatever the cause, it was time to slow down. I
    walked thru an aid station, drank a lot of water, ate a gel, and then
    started a lite jog again. Made it to about mile 22 (plus or minus) when the
    police essentially formed a line in front of the herd and physically stopped
    runners. "The race is cancelled. Good Job! You can walk now. Please walk!
    There aren't enough ambulances to take care of everyone. Please walk!"
    Well-intentioned as it was, hearing "the race is cancelled" after 20-odd
    miles is a buzzkill of the highest order. Well, to be honest, after seeing
    the dozens (literally) of people on the side of the road being attended to,
    and factoring in the heat and humidity, I wasn't really gonna argue. So, I
    walked most of the rest of the "race." I jogged a little here and there, but
    was chastised each time by an alert copper of fireman, so the running was
    short-lived. I did manage to run the entire last mile, tho dodging the crowd
    was no easy feat.

    I'm not entirely sure of my finish time, but it's about an hour slower than
    I had hoped for. Oh well. Wait 'till next year, I guess.

    Observations:

    I think the nausea was more food induced than heat induced. I ate what I
    normally ate before a big run (one gel and two clif bars) but I think
    because of the heat and the full strength g-rade, things were not so well
    received.

    The weather. (Cue Good Morning Vietnam) "How hot? Damned hot!" and no
    breeze, sky high humidity, and pretty direct sun made for a crappy day.
    Yeah, I trained in the heat, but on long run days, I got up at 5 and was
    done long before the real heat hit. Maybe that was a mistake.

    Water on the course: For me, there was no shortage of water. After the
    stoppage, there was a shortage of pre-filled cups, but there were pallets of
    water and people pouring. IMO, the problem arose because rather than fill
    cups, the vols at the stations grabbed a gallon and stood there, pouring
    water on people's heads. There may have been other factors, but that's my
    observation.

    Pilsen is still the coolest neighborhood on the tour. By a long shot. Those
    folks get into it.

    Hosing people down at random should be a capital offense. Well, of course
    not really, but the guy who was doing that at mile six soaked my shoes.
    Running (or walking) 20 miles in squishy, soaked shoes sucks.

    The finish area was a GDCF of epic proportions. Calls of "Runner Down" every
    few seconds. People coming in thru the out at a rate of a million a second.
    It probably took me 30 minutes to make the 2 or 3 hundred yard walk from the
    finish line to the gear check area. Really, really, bad. No one had control
    of the area. At least the apples were fresh, cold, and yummy.

    All in all, a really weird day. I look forward to next year.

    -Dan

    Sounds like it was a nightmare for most people.

    John

  5. Daniel-San said:


    Water on the course: For me, there was no shortage of water. After the
    stoppage, there was a shortage of pre-filled cups, but there were pallets of
    water and people pouring. IMO, the problem arose because rather than fill
    cups, the vols at the stations grabbed a gallon and stood there, pouring
    water on people's heads. There may have been other factors, but that's my
    observation.

    -Dan

    For me, the best hot weather strategy is to drink a quart of water
    half hour before the start. Then drink at the stations in the first
    half if it's easy. Don't drink anything in the second half. Pour
    plenty of water over the head all the way. Wear a white hat with a
    brim with no fishing lures allowed. I think the early runners at
    Chicago used this plan (less the hat) and that's why all the water was
    used up so early.

  6. runsrealfast said:

    Sounds like it was a nightmare for most people.

    John

    As is this thread.

  7. Daniel-San said:

    I figured I'd let the controversy marinate and settle before throwing my
    experiences into the ring.

    Here goes:

    It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...err...no, not quite,
    but something like that. The training was over, time for the race.

    Got to the start chute/corral/herd around 7:15. Yakked with a few people,
    most, like me, seemed a little nervous about the weather. Yeah, we agreed,
    we'd trained in the heat and humidity, but with a month or so of cool
    weather, had we lost whatever acclimatization we might have had?

    The start, and the first seven or so miles, is race number one:

    The start was essentially the same as last year. A herd of people pressing
    their way up to the line, just barely resisting the urge to trample those in
    front. I'm not into sensing the "energy" of something, but there's certainly
    something in the air as the timing mat nears. The crowd cheering, the music
    playing, and the almost annoying cowbell clanging brought me to the line.
    Off I go.

    It's hot. Humid, and breezeless, too. By the time we come out from under the
    bridges
    that cover most of the first mile, I'm dripping. Not good. I had planned to
    skip the first couple water stations, as in my training, I usually waited
    until mile five or six to begin the watering. I decided that I'd hit the
    second station, around the third mile, for a quick swig.

    I look at my pace band, I'm hoping for 3:45, but will be quite happy with
    anything sub-4. Mile one, two, three, and four are on pace, plus or minus a
    second or two each. So far, so good.

    I pull into the aid station and grab a cup of Gatorade. Drink it down and
    then grab two cups of water. In training, on a really hot, muggy day, I'd
    drink about four or five ounces of diluted gatorade every mile or so,
    depending on how I felt. The cup of full-strength g-rade (endurance formula,
    which I think translates roughly to "more sugar"😉 did not sit well. I
    started sensing the stomach's displeasure with what I had served it.

    Ya know, the more I hear about supported races, the happier I am that
    most of my races don't have aid. No risk of having something I haven't
    tried yet or mixed at different ratio than what I trained with.

    ....

    Quoted message said:

    Now, I spent the next 15 minutes
    or so motionless, puking against a tree, watching the clock tick away. [censored].

    Bummer.
    ....

    Quoted message said:

    I probably went at it too hard during the last 10K to keep the fluid intake
    in line with the outflow.

    Were you using electrolytes also or just fluid? Had you trained only
    with diluted regular gatorade or had you trained with the endurance
    formula used in the race?

    Quoted message said:

    Whatever the cause, it was time to slow down. I
    walked thru an aid station, drank a lot of water, ate a gel, and then
    started a lite jog again. Made it to about mile 22 (plus or minus) when the
    police essentially formed a line in front of the herd and physically stopped
    runners. "The race is cancelled. Good Job! You can walk now. Please walk!
    There aren't enough ambulances to take care of everyone. Please walk!"
    Well-intentioned as it was, hearing "the race is cancelled" after 20-odd
    miles is a buzzkill of the highest order.

    Super bummer. Thanks for the clarification since the website said only
    those that hadn't past the half-way point in 3.5-4 hr were being
    diverted back to start / finish. It wasn't clear from some runner's
    reports what happened if they were beyond the half way. Although this
    might have been a police (rather than marathon organization) decision
    from what some reports suggested, not that they really know.

    Quoted message said:

    Well, to be honest, after seeing
    the dozens (literally) of people on the side of the road being attended to,
    and factoring in the heat and humidity, I wasn't really gonna argue.

    Good attitude.

    So, I

    Quoted message said:

    walked most of the rest of the "race." I jogged a little here and there, but
    was chastised each time by an alert copper of fireman, so the running was
    short-lived. I did manage to run the entire last mile, tho dodging the crowd
    was no easy feat.

    I'm not entirely sure of my finish time, but it's about an hour slower than
    I had hoped for. Oh well. Wait 'till next year, I guess.

    Congratulations on finishing - even if it wasn't quite the marathon you
    were hoping for.

    ....

    Quoted message said:

    IMO, the problem arose because rather than fill
    cups, the vols at the stations grabbed a gallon and stood there, pouring
    water on people's heads. There may have been other factors, but that's my
    observation.

    I kinda got that impression also.

    Quoted message said:


    Pilsen is still the coolest neighborhood on the tour. By a long shot. Those
    folks get into it.

    Hosing people down at random should be a capital offense. Well, of course
    not really, but the guy who was doing that at mile six soaked my shoes.
    Running (or walking) 20 miles in squishy, soaked shoes sucks.

    Yuck. I'd kinda wondered about how voluntary some of the sprayings were.

    Quoted message said:


    The finish area was a GDCF of epic proportions. Calls of "Runner Down" every
    few seconds. People coming in thru the out at a rate of a million a second.
    It probably took me 30 minutes to make the 2 or 3 hundred yard walk from the
    finish line to the gear check area. Really, really, bad. No one had control
    of the area. At least the apples were fresh, cold, and yummy.

    I wonder if the shortening of the race created more runners at the
    finish area earlier than intended, hence more confusion. Although it
    sounds like they had a number of organizational issues.

    Quoted message said:


    All in all, a really weird day. I look forward to next year.

    Glad you're looking forward to another year and didn't get too soured.

    Dot

    --
    "I'm a great believer in luck, and I find the harder I work, the more I
    have of it."
    -Thomas Jefferson, third President of the United States

  8. As is this thread.

    --
    Ignorint [censored]-off Man

  9. "Al Bundy" <[email hidden]> wrote

    Quoted message said:

    For me, the best hot weather strategy is to drink a quart of water
    half hour before the start. Then drink at the stations in the first
    half if it's easy. Don't drink anything in the second half. Pour
    plenty of water over the head all the way. Wear a white hat with a
    brim with no fishing lures allowed. I think the early runners at
    Chicago used this plan (less the hat) and that's why all the water was
    used up so early.

    You must have the sweat rate of a dog (ie, zero). Heck, I've lost 2 quarts
    in a half marathon on a cool overcast day. In one marathon ending up at 90F
    by the ocean (humid), I drank at every aid station and was 10 lbs lighter at
    the finish. I was seriously overheated and borderline heatstroke on that
    one. That's down by 1 gallon & a quart (4 litres for you metric gnomes).

    Re head cooling, if you've got some hair up there to insulate things, a few
    ice cubes under the hat works great -- that's an ultra trick.

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