So you start to run. You can even kid yourself along for the first half mile or so. You stick to the shade, you don't try to break the four-minute mile, you think cool thoughts.
But then you start to sweat. After which you start to sweat a lot. Pretty soon, your socks weigh as much as your shoes did when you started out, but not as much as your shoes do now. They're soaked, and they're as heavy as concrete blocks.
Before long, you start thinking about how good some cold water would taste, how good a cold shower would feel. When you look at your watch, you see you're not even halfway done.
You sweat some more. When you swing your arms, drops of sweat fly off your fingertips. If you weren't wearing a headband, your eyes would be stinging with sweat. A little bit gets in them even as it is.
Eventually you get home. You don't even bother to go inside. You just take off your shirt and shoes and hose yourself down in the driveway. Feels good.
After an hour or so, you've almost forgotten what it was like.
Tomorrow is another day.