Summertime

"Didn't you get my text?" Dallas said. "It's 102 degrees!"

I had already done my cardio warm-up, my rotator cuff warm-up routine, and was doing light pecs and delts. The dumbbells felt hot to the touch, like a cast iron skillet on the stove. Sweating was profuse. It was a lot more than 102 inside that unairconditioned tin building of a gym.

"No," I said, "what did it say?"

Dallas made a face.

I put my dumbbells down. "Go home to your wife and your air-conditioner!" I said.

"To my iced tea and taking it easy!" he said as we left, smiling.

In the South, it's summertime and the living is easy. Fish are biting and the cotton is high. And air-conditioning is sipping iced tea while resting in the shade.

Being from the deep south... and growing up with no air-conditioning at school, home, car nor buses... 102 degrees to me just means drinking cold liquids continuously to let it go straight through and do a heat exchange. For my riding and hiking, I load my Camelbak with ice and top it off with water. This time of year, I am so hydrated that I have to pee several times during the night. On weekend days, I prefer bicycling and hiking first thing in the morning. On weekdays, I do what I can. After work today, I hiked 6 miles in 99 degrees but under the canopy. Last Saturday we rode twentysomething miles in the sun. The heat doesn't bother me if I consistently stay with the program, stay consistent to get attuned to changing temps gradually, and drink fluids. High temps are part of training and conditioning. I won't accept anything else.

I choose to practice how I play.

And the living is easy.

- text © 2010 by Willy