I work Wednesdays and Thursdays from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. Generally that means "the cool of the day." I try to walk around 7 a.m. on those days, to avoid having to get it done later in the afternoon, when the heat has built up and my energy is at its lowest.
[Aging sucks, y'all. I shouldn't be complaining, since I'm still upright and breathing, but my stamina and endurance just aren't what they used to be.]
Maybe as I continue to lose weight (how's that for confidence?), my comfort level will increase. For this summer, though, I'm going to have to manage my walking time carefully. Earlier is better.
Early happened yesterday, but even though I said I wouldn't melt in the rain I apparently thought I might, as I turned around at the three-quarter mile point, logging 1.5 miles yesterday morning. It rained nearly the entire time I worked, so I paced back-and-forth inside the sales building for 15 minutes before deciding that might be a little compulsive. When it wasn't raining too hard I could check things off the to-do list – stick cuttings in dirt, tidy up the displays – and we even had a few customers. (Deer repellant is flying off the shelves.)
To up the weekly mileage, my husband and I decided to take advantage of a lull in the storms and take a longer walk. We left the house at 2 p.m., or "the heat of the day." Probably not our best idea. We lasted three miles and called it enough. I collapsed until dinner time and collapsed again after dinner, completely wiped out.
I'm beginning to wonder if I need to take a vitamin.
At least on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Heh.
Year before last I planted some hostas, and this year I've added more to the collection. I needed to move one yesterday to make room for an additional one, and I stuck a couple pink astilbe toward the front. Hopefully everything will survive and thrive. I'm happier with the planters this year than I've been in all the time I've lived here.
Sometimes you just have to give up what you'd like and accept what works.
