Today, I walked for 30 minutes in the afternoon heat along a busy road that’s undergoing construction and felt amazing. (If you are from this area in Florida, I won’t have to explain about the eternal construction on Estero).
Back home, I hide from the heat indoors for months and still feel like I’ve been run over by a gigantic, angry lawnmower.
It’s not the hot weather I find so hard to tolerate. It’s the particular brand of hot weather nastiness that characterizes Southern Illinois.
Maybe I should look for a job in Florida. It would be such a relief not to feel like an invalid several months out of a year.