The older I get, the less I like the heat. It was so bad today that I was thinking about how nice winter will be.

I’m a cold natured person, like a lot of my women my age. Just the other day as I sat in my office at work, I had my space heater under my desk on high, blasting warm air at my legs and feet, while it was a “real feel” of 95-degrees just outside the window. I tend to get really cold in the AC. I enjoy the sauna and a hot bath.

But when it comes to the outdoors, I’m going to say I prefer the cold to the heat. At 8:30 this morning when I completed my 10km run, it looked like I’d gone for a swim. I’d sweated entirely through my shirt and shorts. The run itself was rough: burning sun even at that time of the morning; stifling humidity; the feeling of being out of shape even though I’m actually very well-conditioned. I had to constantly wipe sweat from my face. And then, my toes. Something about longer runs in the summer: even with a half-size up in my shoes and special toe socks, I can feel the blisters percolating and the toenails jarring. Probably because it was a swamp in my shoes too. Upon returning to the house, jumping in the inflatable pool helped a little, although I’m not sure the water was much cooler than the air.

Contrast this to January: I did a 6-mile run in a park one morning. It took about 2 miles for feeling to come back to my fingers. My nose dripped and my face felt whipped by the cold air. My knees and ankles took a little longer to get moving. I was a bit sweaty in the end, but not bad like today.

And my Golden retriever. He hates the heat. The humidity in southern Virginia is a beast. Thankfully we have a lake and the beach to give him some relief. But the poor pup is prone to hot spots (bacterial scabs) that form on his head, more common in humid months. We brave the beach in the fall and winter, even on the coldest of days. Frizz-free hair, no sunburn, no sweat, no tourists. It’s great.

I’ve experienced the extreme elements a few times with some close friends. Once, at the ripe age of 19, I got to go to the mountains of northwestern Virginia to ride horses with some girlfriends. I clearly remember my best friend’s mom standing on the steps before we left saying, “Dress warmly, it’ll be cold up there.” I said to myself (because I knew everything back then), “I’ll be fine.” That hour or so on the horse was probably the coldest I’ve ever been in my life. I wore jeans, a hoodie, and a too-small cool-girl coat over top. Freezing. Later that night we went in the hot tub and sauna, which was really nice.

Another time me and a friend decided to go for a bike ride through Back Bay Wildlife Refuge in Virginia Beach. We picked the hottest day of my life, in June, and went around 2 pm. Nearly the entire trail was unshaded. We were extremely sweaty. The park ranger, a very strong-looking woman, drove up beside us and said, “You ladies ok?” When we got back to the vehicle after biking around, we cranked the AC and drank some cold water. Looking back, it’s sort of surprising we didn’t have heat strokes.

I think I’ll take the cold air over the humid heat. Staticky hair over frizz. Cracked skin over moisturized. Runny nose and frozen fingers over dripping sweat. Cold toes rather than blistered ones. Through the years I’ve learned to dress for the cold and it’s not so bad. Thermal long johns, the right cap, gloves, I’m good to go. And my beloved pup can join along 😊. ~