Not As Young As I Used To Be
My brain insists I am 20, my almost 60-year-old body begs to differ
The hubby and I spent last Saturday at the local gun range, taking a course. Half the course was inside sitting down and the other half was out on the firing line. The heat was not terribly nice, though it was tolerable when we got a bit of a breeze.
I knew what the weather would be like (the mid to high 80s) and planned accordingly. We needed to bring lunch and snacks, so I cut up a couple of types of cheeses, meats, and dill pickles. I had several boxes of gluten-free crackers and brought plenty of Powerade and other liquids. The course instructor bought a big case of bottled water and chips.
We had hats, dressed as comfortably as we could, and made sure we had sunblock. I even made sure I brought my rollator as I knew I would need to sit quite a bit and it has a fold-down seat. Having to keep picking up my canes is a pain in the tuckus.
By the end of the day, I thought I was going to die. I was doing everything right, staying hydrated, sitting down as much as possible, and getting in the shade as often as I could. We had regular breaks to make sure we didn’t overdo it.
I still felt like I was going to die.
