Getting dinner last night was a struggle of epic proportions. I went to the local Whataburger to get the entre, and the rest came from the pantry. What made it a struggle for survival was the bus home went by before the sandwiches were finished and I didn’t have the stamina to wait 40 minutes in the heat.
Ah, yes, I need to update you on the weather yesterday afternoon. Hot and humid with bright sun. Dry bulb was 97°F, heat index was 104, and no wind to speak of, and Casa de El Poeta is 1.08 miles (1.74 km) from the Whataburger. Now there were lots of people making sure I was hydrated during the day, I was even given a free glass of ice water by the Whataburger before I left, but because I use one hand to walk with my cane, and needed the other to carry dinner I didn’t have any way to carry the water on the walk back to the house. I had to drink as much as I could chug and toss the rest.
So, there I was slogging along with Mrs. the Poet’s Mushroom Swiss burger and my Bacon Cheese Whataburger in a bag in one hand, and my cane in the other and the heat was just draining me of energy and fluids. Even with my glow-in-the-dark sun hat I still got plenty cooked. And it showed in my pace as tracked on the fitness app on my phone as my pace sagged from the 3 miles in an hour start to almost 2 (it sounds so much faster to say “almost 2 MPH” than less than 2 MPH) average. The app has a trend line that shows your speed at the point that you can tap to find out where you lost time on your workout, and I was pushing a 19:30/mile when I left the bus stop and about 33:10 at the end, averaging 30:10 for the trip, as I needed frequent stops to straighten out my back. Near the end (as in 6 houses from Casa de El Poeta) a nice lady did offer a ride, but by that time it just didn’t make any sense to go through the effort to get in and then back out of the car in just a few seconds later.
But anyway as this blog post shows I did survive to complain another day (HA!) and present my breathless prose about it to you.