The real heat of summer is here with temps in the high eighties. The humidity is oppressive. The sun is cooking everything to well done. The sweat is dripping in my eyes. And I love every minute of it.
I like it hot. Granted, the humidity makes it more difficult to bear, but I like it hot. The hotter the better. I scoff at the sun. Bring it on.
The warmth of these summer days helps to keep my muscles loose and functioning. In the cold I stiffen up too easily and it’s always a battle to stay loose. But in the heat of July half the battle is over before I even get into it. I like that.
They say you should be careful exercising outside in the heat. Beware of heat stroke. Stay hydrated. Seek out shade whenever possible. But I rarely adhere to those admonitions. Shade is for sissies. I do drink a bit more water when I’m active outside in this heat, but not that much more than usual. Heat stroke to me is just a theory.
I love the feeling of sweat oozing out of every pore and running in little rivers down into my eyes and down my back and soaking my shirt and shorts. I like the image of my skin glistening with a sheen of sweet sweat. I like the idea that the sweat I create is cleansing my body of all those nasty toxins that accumulate in me despite my best efforts to stay pure. Sweat is good. It means you are still alive.
So while everyone else is moaning about how uncomfortable they are and how nasty the heat and humidity are and how they wish it was December, I am reveling in the joy of July and its wondrous capacity to make me feel good. This is the best time of year by far. I love it.