Amy Reinink

Summer is here, with its sticky heat in tow. For runners, this means a sluggish

My tail-fro in full effect after the Nashville Country Music Marathon in 2007.

pace (as much as 20 to 30 seconds more per mile for every 5 degrees above 60, according to Jeff Galloway), rivers of sweat and, for this runner, the dreaded tail-fro.

If you’ve got longish, wavy-ish hair, and you run with it in a ponytail, I don’t need to explain about this product of moisture, bouncing and funk. If you don’t, the tail-fro is what happens when you combine moisture, bouncing and funk: You get a giant nest of knots loosely held together by a rubber band, like your hair has become a nest of spider webs. And like the spider webs are made of copper.

I first noticed this phenomenon while training for the Nashville Country Music Marathon in Nashville in 2007. I was living in Florida then, and even the coolest of March days had the potential to create some big, nasty knots in my hair. After my warmup half-marathon in Gainesville, Fla., I actually purchased some conditioning product marketed for black women’s hair. I am of Dutch, German, English and Norweigan descent. The product made me smell like cocoa butter for days, yet barely made a dent in the tail-fro. The marathon itself was even worse, as evidenced by the photo accompanying this post.

Braiding doesn’t make it better. Instead, it creates more complicated knots, like spider webs whose creators have decided to play Cat’s Cradle. And I’m way too lazy to have cute, short hair — then, I’d have to be better about upkeep, and I spend way too much on race registrations to see my hairdresser any more often than every few months.

So what’s a ponytailed girl to do? I’ve taken to smothering my hair with leave-in conditioner post-run, then lounging in the tub while it soaks in. It’s a nice excuse to take a long bath, if nothing else.

Other solutions would be welcome. Then again, I like knowing that with hair like this, I might scare off my competition at races.

In other running news: I enjoyed a relatively pain-free run last night with Pacers! We did the Alaska Out and Back route, usually reserved for rainy nights but surprisingly lovely on a nice summer evening, too. Make it 5.4 miles by coming back the same way you went out.

Also, check out my Examiner.com post on Debi Bernardes, a 50-plus athlete who can still run a 10K faster than I ever could.

Next up: a well-deserved easy swim this morning to recover from two tough workouts in a row and get ready for the swim this weekend!

I had SUCH a good plan today.

I was going to go meet with the Back on My Feet guys in Baltimore for the Urbanite Magazine story I’m working on, then pick up some last-minute camping supplies at the commissary in Silver Spring, then complete a killer swim workout at the National Naval Medical Center pool in Bethesda, my “home pool.”

Then, I realized my military ID had gone missing, and I lost it. And by “it,” I mean control of the entire day, at least temporarily. I spent at least an hour searching for the lost ID, then another hour calling around to find out how to replace it, then about 30 minutes wallowing in self-pity and complaining about all the time I’d lost on my ID. Oh, and then another 30 minutes worrying about all the work I hadn’t been doing.

I backtracked in my week, panicking and thinking about where I could have dropped the ID. But then, I backtracked in my day, starting at my 4:30 a.m. wakeup call to go meet the Back on My Feet guys for their 5:30 a.m. team meeting.

At the meeting, I found out that the two guys I’m following — both homeless, or “residential” team members — have committed to the marathon and half-marathon at the Baltimore Running Festival, respectively. Arnold, the track star-turned-drug dealer-turned-born again runner, says he will run the full marathon to help him get back on the road to who he’s supposed to be, and to redeem another team member who picked up and left the shelter one night without notice. That member said he was going to run the marathon, too. The program director says this is the hardest part of coaching with this program: That even guys who seem like they’re on the right track are only one step away from having it all fall apart.

That’s when I realized what a baby I was being. I lost a piece of plastic. Life goes on. I made a plan to go pick up my new ID across town tomorrow, and grabbed a few books and magazines in case the two- to three-hour wait I’ve been warned about becomes a reality.

Tomorrow’s plan includes another lesson from the Back on My Feet gang. Another homeless team member, a sweet, soft-spoken 50-year-old woman named Deborah, told me she likes to run because it’s “cleansing.” She said no matter what else she’s done in her day, or in her life, her runs seem to wash it all away.

To that end, I’m starting tomorrow with a swim at a public pool in Silver Spring. You know — to wash it all away.

Next up: Backpacking in Shenandoah National Park this weekend! Cross your fingers that my hip behaves!

I don’t want to jinx myself or anything, but man, does it feel good to be back into my running routine!

I missed the camaraderie of my group runs. I missed the ability to get my daily outdoors fix while relieving my stress. I even missed my favorite music — Eminem isn’t my artist of choice while I’m sitting in my apartment working, but there’s nothing quite like running your heart out to “Shake That.”

And I missed having the Marine Corps Marathon to look forward to. I signed up to run it after a successful performance at the National Half Marathon in March, and all but put it aside while I was nursing a sore IT band. Now, I’m starting to get excited about it again, printing out my training plan and considering my warmup races.

I’m following the FIRST plan, which calls for three days of running per week, plus some hard cross-training the other days. In particular, I’m following the beginner’s plan, a fairly straightforward plan that calls for just one 20-miler before the race.

It’s been almost a month since I made it to my beloved Pacers Silver Spring Fun Run, thanks to a scary-sore hip. After a 30-minute “test run” last week, I braved the five-mile hill loop my running group did last night.

And you know what? I was fine! Tired and nervous the whole time, but fine! My hip’s a little sore this morning, but it’s nothing like the throbbing, terrifying mess it was reduced to after my standard five-milers a month ago.

We did the Grubb Road out-and-back I trained on frequently before the National Half Marathon in March. The run features several leg-burners through the gorgeous Colonial Village neighborhood near Rock Creek Park. (Need more hill-route suggestions? Check out my Examiner post for today). It just felt so good to return to my running routine, which I rely on to keep me honest about my workouts and sane for the rest of my days.

Next up: A BOSU and swim workout today. I’m thinking of reverting to an old favorite swimming-wise, a timed 1,650, followed by 5X200, then 10X25s, half of them sprint, half of them no breath (this last part is new, but in the instant-classic kind of way).