Sometimes you've gotta try something just to see if you can do it.

I believe in this mantra, wholeheartedly. Sometimes, if for no other reason, you've just got to find out if something is in your power. You've got to push your limits, and test your abilities.

My mind drifted to this idea - something I've been telling myself for a few months now - as I lifted my new copy of Runner's World out of my mailbox this afternoon. "Beat the Heat" jeers a two page spread as the magazine falls open in my hands. "Beat the Heat." "Outrun the Sun." Countless tips to stay cool while running in the summer months. "The Badwater Bandana."

But see, I know all this.

I've spent the last few months boning up on heat training techniques. On the pros and cons of clima-cool. On the dangers of heat exhaustion. On the dangers of heat stroke. On hydration. On hyper-hydration. On the dangers of hyponatremia. On proper electrolyte and carbohydrate replenishment. On the importance of acclimation. On sauna training. On the efficacy of cooling the body by cooling the neck as opposed to the chest. On the techniques required to keep a core temperature under 105 degrees during prolonged aerobic exercise in extreme temperatures.

I knew about the Badwater Bandana. Thank you, Runner's World.

You see, being an acting runner, my schedule is not entirely flexible. In fact, it's incredibly inflexible. Rarely do I know where I'll be 18 or 20 weeks down the road; rarely do I know where I'll be going next. Therefore, scheduling, training for, and finally completing a marathon in the standard recommended time frame with the standard recommended training is next to impossible. It's impractical. It just won't happen.

But see, you know all this. These are life's little incongruities.

So the past few years, I've taken to keeping a regular training schedule, and then simply ramping up when I find I can do an event. For example, last June, right before I came out here to Memphis, Tennessee, land of Elvis and catfish, I found I would be passing through (roughly) Bend, Oregon, on or about (roughly) June 24. I also found an event calling itself the Pacific Crest Marathon that would be taking place right (roughly) then. So, four or five weeks out, I made plans. I ramped up. I tapered. Then I flew to New York, packed up an apartment in three days and shipped it west, flew back to California, packed up a (smaller) apartment and put it in my car and drove 15 hours to Bend, got up the next morning and ran a marathon. Not the best conditions, but you make do with what you have, right?

And as I sat in my Memphis apartment, enjoying the 95 degree mid-April weather, I realized that my schedule would lighten up right around June. So, I started looking.

Now marathons are hard to come by in the United States in June, July and August, and for good reason. I found a few small races, but most were out of the way, and next to impossible to get to on a budget. The only prospect was a little one in Las Vegas, Nevada. Now, while Las Vegas is relatively cheap to get to (uhm, get to) from most anywhere, it is rather cheap by even those standards to get to it from Memphis, Tennessee. So. Vegas it was. Problem? Oh yes. The race itself.

The Running with the Devil Marathon.

Yes. The usual 26.2, but this time starting at noon in the middle of the Mojave. With temperatures regularly hitting 115 degrees, 2150 feet of verticle, and little to no cloud cover I figured that this might take just a little more preparatory work than my usual ramp and taper.

But you know, sometimes you've gotta try something just to see if you can do it…

So I started my research, and I started my heat acclimation. I quickly found that heat training in Memphis, Tennessee is not a bad plan. Memphis has rather a good amount of heat. And catfish and Elvis both take a little acclimation. So I trained. I planned all my runs in the early to late afternoon, hitting the hottest time of the day. I ran short days in the sun, long days in the sun, only doing speedwork and tempo runs inside. I hydrated. I slowed down. I did all the right things. I ate well and worked hard and drank water all day and all night.

And then, I did something I haven't done in years.

I quit.

I just quit running. God, it was killing me. I was exhausted all the time. I couldn't stand it. I hated my life. I felt like a slug. I ate little. I drank little water. I quit all exercise all together. I stayed inside. I slept a lot and was still exhausted. I became an insomniac, and was still exhausted. I just wanted to close my eyes and cover my head and never, ever, ever see the sun ever, ever again.

Sure, that's why they call it acclimation. Just because you can do it once doesn't mean you're conditioned to it. Yeah, yeah. Just because you can run one 5:15 mile doesn't mean you can run three. I know, spare me.

I still agree with my first assessment, however: sometimes you've gotta try something, just to see if you can do it…

Fortunately, Runner's World must have heard about my lapse and published this cute little article just to shake me from my reverie. How clever of them to time it so that it landed in my mailbox, and subsequently my hot little hand the very day I would have returned from Las Vegas had I not quit being a runner. Kudos to Runner's World. Good for them.

I guess I should see if I can't stumble around the block tomorrow morning without throwing up.

Still, sometimes you've gotta try something…

I guess there's always next year.