Oh the humidity: One man’s struggle with exercise in the summer

Complaining about humidity in Mississippi in July sounds a bit like this:

That water is too wet.

I can’t believe that sugar is sweet.

I’m shocked the sun came up in the east.

I’m stunned that pure-grain alcohol make me drunk.

It’s humid in Mississippi in the summertime. Always has been. Probably always will be.

But this morning was super special. By the end of my one-hour boot camp, I looked like Niagara Falls during the rainy season. We were outside on the football field. The humidity was steamy dog breath. And I was melting like the Wicked Witch at a water park.

We’re on our 12th week of the bootcamp. At one point I looked at one of my teammates and gasped, “How is this still kicking our butts?” I can tell you how. The air is super thick. My body, which spends way too much time sitting and in A/C likes the remind me that I spend way too much time sitting and in A/C. You just deal with it and move on.

So you’re thinking to yourself, “Marshall, why would you give up a comfy bed to turn into a human puddle?” My answer — not to be sexy during a workout, I can tell you that much. No, this the real reason: This morning, at 4:04 a.m., I read a story about an unfortunate soul who died three miles up Alum Cave Trail (one of my favorite trails in the Great Smokey Mountains). He was going up to spend the night at Mt. Leconte Lodge and never made it. He had a cardiac event. He was two years younger than me.

That hits home.

I have a 10-year-old. He (and his brothers) need dad around for a while. So get up early and push my heart, soul and body.

And I sweat. A lot. Also, I nearly puked — well at leastI did this morning.

But I’m so ready for Fall now. Bring on cooler weather before I melt away.

This entry was posted in Blog, Fat-Fit-Fat, Writing. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *