Miami Gnat-Attack

Miami. Ah, you might think of the beaches, the nightlife, the celebrities, the hurricanes, the traffic, the Cubans, the outrageous real-estate, but once a year a phenomenon occurs that only local running residents can truly experience: the Miami Gnat-Attack.

I should have known that today would be the day. The past couple of days have been filled with raging thunderstorms of tropical storm proportions. These storms act as Mother Nature's warnings to those procrastinating Miamians who have refused to fix their storm-battered roofs, or who have tempted fate by rationalizing that this may be a year of hurricane asbsenteeism. But no, these storms have allowed homeowners to recognize the cracks in their fortresses, the lone shingle that is missing that could soak through in a category three hurricane long enough to cause roof failure and utter devastation to an otherwise overpriced paper millionaire's home.

Light rains sprinkled the lawn last night and carried over into the morning. My morning run, number three of my attempt back from injury, would have to be postponed to the afternoon- usually a blessing in disguise, allowing proper blood flow throughout the day to help warm-up and heal my injured hip flexor. I attended Don Strock's Diabetes Golf Tournament, collecting golf bags from former football greats Nat Moore and Gino Toretta, amongst a slew of wealthy Miami businessmen and jocks. Rain continued to fall.

After leaving the golf tournament to attend to some business in the office, I headed off to pick up Madelyn at her great-grandmother's house. The day had now turned quite humid and warm: essential gnat-producing egg weather... but I was oblivious to this notion due to my absence in Miami over the years.. and I proceeded to pick up Madelyn and drive home. Once home, and my little brother a willing babysitter, I opted to go for my run before my wife arrived home...

At first, I stepped out to run in my old "war red" New Balance On the Run Racing Team uniform and shorts with my trademark USA hat. But once I realized how sunny and warm it was, I returned inside to trade my hat for my sunglasses and headed back out the door.

30-minutes. A simple run, really. Just to promote good blood-flow in my legs and start the "getting-into-shape" process. I re-set my watch, and off I went. And then it hit me immediately: the first swarm of millions of gnats. One's first reaction is of utter disgust. I breathe solely through my nose, not daring to open my mouth and allow the black devils inside. It has not hit me yet that this is the genesis of gnat-day, G-Day, to be exact. I figure,

oh, just a bunch of gnats. I'll be rid of them once I get on the canal.

137th Avenue tricks me into believing that I am gnat-free for my run. Gnats, much like the human organism, do not like traffic and carbon monoxide. Even a gnat cannot stand car pollution.

And so, I proceed on my run, but immediately I am struck with fear. Not gnat-fear, but with fear of the worst kind: alligator fear. There have been three deadly alligator attacks within a week on canals such as Kendall's. The opening to the canal that I enter off of 104th and 137th is less than sidewalk width, a delicate tip-toe tightrope of grass and rocks along a canal edge into the water. It is here that if an alligator would be perched sneakily in the rocks or trees, I would have very little chance of escape. I entertain several death-escaping scenarios in my head.

Alright, if there's an alligator beyond that tree I need to be able to drop a sub-30 second 200... watch for rocks, watch for any sudden movement, scan the canal bank's edge.. what's with all these damn gnats.."

And then it hits me: today is the full-fledged gnat-attack, the awakening of this purposeless insect. Really, what is the purpose of the gnat? It exists for a day, only to disappear and re-emerge a year later, much like the cicada, but with no noise and no bite. Just an annoyance.

I am now running, faster than I would like, on a canal bank, inches from death, completely paranoid of either 1) an alligator attacking me, 2) my leg cramping up and hurting and injuring myself, 3) stepping on a rock or in a hole and twisting my bad Boston-ankle, or 4) getting a gnat in my mouth or eyes. Thank goodness for the decision to wear my sunglasses, but I am cursing my decision to leave my hat. Millions upon millions of gnats have entered my hair, my ears, my shirt, my shorts. I am only five minutes into my run and already I am caked in gnats.

My alligator paranoia comes to an end when I reach the first turn eastbound on the canal bank, as the canal widens to about street-width. But it is at this point that I am faced with my worst fear: asphixiation by gnat. Clouds upon clouds of gnats pollute the terrain I will soon traverse and there is no turning back. There is no escape. I have already been running close to a mile, so there is no point in turning back and starting at a later time. I am already committed. I decide to run with my mouth shut and do some Miami altitude training, which is defined as trying to breathe very humid air only through one's nose. It takes a very aerobically fit runner to do this, something I can usually do at close to sub-6:00 pace when in shape, but this only my third day back.. how long can I last in this state?

The next three miles I teeter on losing my mind and going mad. I am hit with swarm upon swarm of gnats, the millions upon billions of insects finding every orifice on my head on which to bury themselves, and for what?! The gnat-death is ungodly. In a matter of miles I have killed millions upon millions of gnats as they drown in my sweat that beads across the surface of my skin. Thousands are tangled in my leg hairs, much like a spider's web, minus the spider, but the sweat and effort to escape does them in. I can almost hear a drone of gnat-death upon my body. I dare not rake my fingers through my hair. I focus on keeping my mouth shut.. for once a gnat enters your mouth, you are victim to asphixiation by gnat.

I am doing well, keeping the gnats at bay as best I can. I run on, I press on to the turnaround. Only two more miles of gnat attacks and I will be free. A few have found my nose and now my nose runs with gnat drool... more stick to my nose. I begin the sneezing gameplay of sneezing and covering my mouth while covering miles in seven minute pace. I reach for my singlet to wipe my nose and all I grab is a massive carcass of gnats. I tolerate the pain. I tolerate the itch in my nose. Just keep running.

And then the mistake happens. I must have been blowing air out my mouth to clean my shades, to get the gnats off my sunglass lens, when the mother of all gnats enters my mouth. Aargh, the taste of a dissolving gnat on the tongue is not to be desired. I spit out the gnat immediately, but it has ransacked my tongue with its insticntive poison.. my tongue quivers and tingles with numbness. I am disappointed in myself, but remain focused. Only a mile to go.

By now I have forgotten about all possible alligator attacks. The clouds of gnats only allow about two feet of visibility, almost like running in a fog. I fear my family may read the following account of my death in the morning's Miami Herald:

Miami Runner Dies of Gnat-Asphixiation

MIAMI- Metro Dade police, upon searching for a slew of killer alligators that have been ravaging city canals came across the body of Miami runner, Gabriel Rodriguez.

Rodriguez, 28, was found dead on the scene. The immediate cause of death was assumed to be alligator attack, but upon an autopsy performed Wednesday night, the cause of death has been defined as "gnat-asphixiation".

Rodriguez, a Cuban-American runner and Columbus High School and Florida International graduate, had told his brother and daughter that he was going out for a run and to expect him back home in about half an hour. After several hours of missing on the canals, the family expected the worst.

"Gaby had been prone to go on very long runs, like when he got lost in the Wasatch Mountains in Utah, but when he didn't come home after what seemed a few hours we called the police."

Unknowingly, Rodriguez had stumbled upon a blizzard of gnats, a once-a-year phenomenon that overpowers many citizens, if not careful. Rodriguez, only wearing sunglasses, shirt and shorts, was found caked in a layer of gnats as millions had buried themselves deep within his lungs and brain.

Well, something like that. I truly did not get an ounce of rest from the gnat-attack for a full 32-minutes. At the moment, I feel a bit sick, like a fever is coming on due to the stress of avoiding gnats and alligators, and running in the 80-degree heat and humidity. My daughter was scared of me when she saw me covered in gnats. Even now I am pulling gnats out of my hair, and I have thoroughly showered. I cough and gnats emerge. I can only imagine how many dwell within my ears that I or Q-tip have not found. It will be days until I am the same. I borrow a line from Tori Amos:

"I shaved every place where you been boy,

I said I shaved every place where you been yes"