One hundred six. Or one hundred two. My iPhone’s weather app says it’s mid-90s outside but that it feels like 106 degrees in Lake Buena Vista or only 102 degrees in Orlando proper.
Yet, I needed a break from curating the Easter Island / Machu Picchu photos… and I needed to get some mileage in. So around 1 PM I went for a 10 mile run.
And I ran in that heat… briefly. Then I walked. A lot. And drank the two bottles of water I brought with me. Ultimately, I averaged a little over 10:20 minute miles but at least I went out there. Probably dehydrated myself even more than I’ve been recently. But that’s what Powerade is for upon the return, right?
I’m flagging in all manners of the term — I’m directing myself onward, I’m marking the course, I’m weak and languid. It’s a flag day alright. But not as I think President Woodrow Wilson envisioned in 1916… nor the August 1949 congressional action… which by the way does NOT make Flag Day an official holiday and leaves it up to the discretion of the President to officially declare its observance. The weird facts we can google on wikipedia these days. When I was a kid and had to haul out an Encyclopedia Britannica or go to the library to do research, we didn’t have world wide web access. Not sure what my point is — perhaps its heat dementia.
Seriously, it’s like Tarzan movie hot!*
*This is one of my favorite throwaway Neil Simon jokes; it’s from Biloxi Blues and the actual line is:
Eugene Morris Jerome: Man it’s hot. It’s like Africa hot. Tarzan couldn’t take this kind of hot.