I’m not sure why people chose to live in Florida. Don’t get me wrong, I have friends and relatives that have lived or live in Florida. I just don’t get it.
Here in Tennessee we’re having late summer weather in June. (Florida’s normal weather this time of year), which means it’s like living in a pressure cooker. You walk outside and you begin to feel the fluid temperature in your body start to rise as the humidity steams you.
Of course, I could stay in my air conditioned house. (I’m trying not to think about what the electric bill will look like when the ac is running almost 24/7.) But that would be to let the weather dictate my plans.
So I got up this morning nice and early and went for a run. I ran the hills. Up and down. I put my brain in neutral—if I don’t think about the heat maybe I won’t notice it. Yeah, okay, I get a bit delusional at times.
We just finished our run, and Jezebel and I are panting. I’ve downed a massive glass of ice water, but Jez is panting too hard to drink. It’s too hot and way too humid. And in our 30+ minute run the temperature went up five degrees. Ugh. In the time it’s taken me to write this blog post it’s risen another five degrees. I think the weather’s won.