Today, with the temperature at 24°C (31°C with the relative humidity), we have been given a break from the extreme heat that held us hostage for almost a week. So I decided to, finally, get a run in. Not as easy as I thought it would be. I succeeded at running to my destination along the St. François River pathway, but then I had to stop. I felt my lunch, consumed many hours earlier, edging its way back up my throat. My left hip seemed to crack with every step. Having not run since the heat wave began, I had fallen “out of shape.”
The heat wave exhausted me — drained my energy, left me feeling a little hopeless. Despite the air conditioning working at full tilt, I still didn’t move about that quickly. Flipping the pages of John Bayley’s Elergy for Iris seemed like too much work. I managed to advance a little on a painting, but almost four days have passed since I have picked up a brush. And practicing a few scales and chords on the piano produced beads of sweat on my brow.
For much of the heat wave I did very little and, in spite of the “guilt” I feel for not accomplishing much during the last few days, I oddly enough feel rested. Perhaps the heat wave was good for something after all. It reminded me to slow down, let my body rest.
The heat wave exhausted me — drained my energy, left me feeling a little hopeless. Despite the air conditioning working at full tilt, I still didn’t move about that quickly. Flipping the pages of John Bayley’s Elergy for Iris seemed like too much work. I managed to advance a little on a painting, but almost four days have passed since I have picked up a brush. And practicing a few scales and chords on the piano produced beads of sweat on my brow.
For much of the heat wave I did very little and, in spite of the “guilt” I feel for not accomplishing much during the last few days, I oddly enough feel rested. Perhaps the heat wave was good for something after all. It reminded me to slow down, let my body rest.
No comments:
Post a Comment