Have you heard? It’s hot here in Mexico. Like, superdupercalifragilisticexpialidocius hot. The tropics don’t mess around, even in the winter. As we head north into the Gulf of California, we will not find any reprieve from the sun. It’s only going to get hotter and I’m likely going to melt.
Finding the energy to get things done between 1pm and 7pm is challenging at best. I look outside and see heat waves rising from everything in sight and wonder how the hell I got myself into this mess. I was the kid in Chicago who got heat exhaustion and threw up all over a friend’s living room floor. I was the kid who, after moving to Arizona, got sick from the temperature extremes of airconditioned classrooms and outdoor hallways at school. I am the adult who enjoys living in the extremely moderate Seattle climate. Why in the world did I think it would be comfortable to live in a floating heat tube in the tropics?
From a decade of desert living I have learned that I fail to function well above 85 degrees. I stop eating, I never drink enough water, and my brain feels like it’s stuck in quick sand. When life functions start to go, anything extracurricular is out of the question. I hardly have the motivation to work out when it’s a comfortable temperature, let alone when I’m evaporating out of my own skin. That makes it even more impressive that Casey was able to get me to exercise with her every day while she was here. I don’t believe in God, but that woman is a saint.
As you might imagine, there is not much room here on the boat. Big open spaces are a terrible waste of space and can be dangerous on a boat that is underway. But we didn’t let that didn’t stop us! Not only did all three of us workout below deck together, we all saw a difference. (Specifically, we all saw a difference in me because Casey and Craig are already V fit.) It was really encouraging to realize that my excuses were BS and that I didn’t have to workout for hours every day to get some positive effects.
In the past, one of my common excuses was a lack of time. As we made our way down the Baja Peninsula, there were plenty of days we’d finish dinner and a few glasses of wine and realize that we hadn’t worked out yet. Old me would’ve chalked it up to another day without a work out. With Casey aboard, a full belly and late start didn’t stop us from doing something, because something is better than nothing. Other days, Casey would trick us into going to shore and then kick our butts in a beach workout. Inevitably, what looked like a reasonable set of exercises would leave me wheezing and wondering how long it would take for the others to realize I was face down in the sand.
Now that Casey has returned home, and the daily temperatures are climbing, it’s harder to keep the exercises going. Well, that doesn’t apply to Craig. Because of course. He’s gotta be cold blooded because the heat doesn’t seem to affect him at all. And he’ll tell you that he has abs from boat life and working on projects, but there are plenty of other folks out here doing the same things and they have a keg instead of a six pack. He’s genetically pre-disposed to well defined abs (even when he doesn’t work out) and it’s not fair. I’m hoping that the old adage of exercise generating energy is true and that it will help me catch up, or at least survive the remaining weeks before returning to the Pacific Northwest’s perfect summer. Just kidding. It’s rains all day every day up there. You shouldn’t move there.