Summer began auspiciously this year with cool weather lasting longer than usual, followed by bearably warm temperatures. I don't know what went wrong. For the past month, each day has begun with me waking up with a headache from the burning sun ray that has managed to penetrate our curtains onto the bed, followed by oppressive heat at the bus stop, rainstorms throughout the afternoon, and culminating in a miserably humid end of the day.
On weekends we have entered a holding pattern with SB physically dragging me from bed to face the day while I whine at him that I have no reason to get out of bed until September. "There is nothing out there worth living for," I squeak at him while he pries my hands from the bed posts. Sure enough, I find myself on some trail, drenched in sweat that has combined with the sunlight to start steaming me while SB drinks all of his water and mine and then tries to convince me that this is fun.
The weather has also made us more ornery than usual. SB is nodding vigorously as I am typing this. I will get him later. Perhaps I will sign him up for some shots. Flu, tetanus...I hear the plague is making a comeback and we'll want him to be immunized.
This morning I was supposed to go on a hike with my rugby team. It was cancelled because of the T1. Which basically means that our two hour hike was too scary in light of a standby signal that a tropical cyclone was 800 miles away and might affect us. And we play contact sports in our spare time. Since it took some major mental preparation for me to wrap my mind around leaving the air conditioned splendor of the flat for the unsheltered Dragon's Back, I was ornery at the cancellation. It's kinda like that time in high school when I had just finished the 3200 and was informed that I was running a leg of the 4x400. "But I'm a distance runner," I had protested when I finally got my breath back from the previous race. The girl who ran the third leg had a pulled hamstring and the rest of the sprinters had gone for a cool down after their last races and hadn't returned. So I spent the next five minutes practicing the baton hand off with my new 4x400 teammates and telling myself that it would be just like my previous race except with a stronger start and finish, and without those other seven laps. And as I was literally lining up for the beginning of the race between runner two and four on the sideline, the sprinters returned and I was quickly ushered from the track. As nervous as I was, my reprieve was a let down. I hate let downs. Especially when I 'm looking for things to hate.
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