The temperature reached about a hundred, today, and I… well… I went on my standard three mile hike after work.
For those of you who are new to my blog, yes… I was fairly well prepared, and didn’t take any major risks. Lots of fluids. Lots of electrolytes. And I kept track of my heart rate on my watch. (It was a workout, but I did okay.) I’m tired, but I’m not falling into heat stroke or anything like that.
The storm damage where I’m at isn’t anywhere near as bad as it is in some of the neighboring towns. I wasn’t climbing over downed trees, or anything, really, besides just the walking.
I’m actually kind of proud of myself that I’m able to do something like that. You see, when I was a kid, I would–without fail–have wound up puking sick from that kind of heat. I’m not sure the adults around me were the outdoorsy-est of people. And they’d basically give you the fish treatment. Drink water. Drink water. Drink water. And hello, hyponatremia. Plenty of water… not enough salt. And the symptoms? Pretty dang similar to dehydration, so… I’d wind up being told to drink more water.
I was fully an adult before I realized that I was only getting one half of the equation.
So, there you are. I walked home in the heat of the noonday sun. And I’m fine. Apparently, heat tolerance is a learned skill.
Still not my favorite thing in the whole world, but possible.
Even for me.