I rushed to the gym this morning so I could stop sweating.
Something is wrong with that. Maybe this picture will make it clearer.
We typically run the air conditioning in our home from Memorial Day to, maybe, mid-October. After all, everything from mid-October to the end of May is fall, winter, or spring. Doing “No AC November” is not usually problem. (It sounds like “No Shave November,” except the fund-raising is for our summer utilities budget, not cancer.) It is followed by “Deal with It December,” “Just Add Clothes January,” and so on. When it gets chilly, we close up. When it gets cold, we use kerosene heaters, because, yes, we are that frugal. (In the summer, we run the AC at 78 degrees — when we are at home only — and our bill runs close to $500 per month.)
But it is November. In Florida. In northern Florida. Instead of typical temps in the 50s at night and 70s during the day with beautiful blue skies and low humidity, we are experiencing a heat wave. High humidity, warm temperatures. As I tried to ignore the beads of sweat on my upper lip this morning, I heard the weatherman on the radio say that the heat index today would be 95 degrees. I believed him.
So I rushed to the gym, which is air conditioned, and signed up for the spinning class where I would work up a good sweat. (Working out to produce sweat is good; meandering about my kitchen packing lunch and producing sweat is not.)
Spinning was intense but good. Yes, I was dripping sweat, soaking my clothes, and realizing that the large bottle of water I’d brought to class was insufficient. Actually, I was hot, but I attributed this to working hard. I could feel the breeze from the fan overhead, but the windows in the room became opaque with condensation.
“I don’t think the air conditioning is working,” my instructor said. I saw the puddle around her bike as she mopped her face with a towel. I considered whether I was working hard or whether the lack of hardcore AC was making me sweat.
Following spinning, I rushed to the locker room to get a shower. I was still hot and so bathed in lukewarm water, finishing with a good dose of cold water. I toweled off, grabbed my beauty gear, and took my place at the makeup counter. As is my routine, I plugged in my personal fan. It is the size of a large coffee mug, is shaped like Snoopy’s nose, and bears fabric “blades” so I can’t injure myself but offers a bit of a breeze to make the humid, never-cool locker room a bit more tolerable.
One of my friends — part of a growing fan club — set up next to me. Despite the fans, I was still sweating, attempting to style hair that would curl as soon as I walked outdoors and apply makeup to a face wet with sweat.
My plan to get to the health club to stop sweating? Yeah, not so effective. Apparently, “No AC November” is catching on… It gives the phrase “sweater weather” new meaning.