I wanted to go for a run today (“jog” might be a better term. or “lollygag”.) I also wanted to put off doing work. So I decided to go for a run at noon. I neglected to look at the temperature before jauntily dragging B out the door. (He was planning to go running at a much more sensible time, like 4… but couldn’t resist the opportunity to run slower because he was waiting for his darling wife).
It felt kind of hot, and I started to turn red immediately (no surprise–I always turn red when I exercise, even when I’m really fit), but I thought I was just being kind of whiny and ignored the heat. The run felt awful, and at the end I thought I might throw up. So I checked the temperature. 85. Oh. Hmmm. Luckily B came to the rescue and made us watermelon ice-shakes in the blender. Brilliant.