Summer is here and the sun (AKA the Yellow Face, according to Gollum) has turned its merciless glare upon the tropics. I find myself, like Gollum, hiding from it as often as possible. This probably explains my veal-like appearance these days, but I have a feeling my choices are either that or the crispy fried chicken look. Under this kind of sun there isn’t much of a middle ground.
Early mornings are my favorite part of a summer day. For some strange reason my body won’t stay asleep when the sun rises, so I find myself getting up at 7:30a.m. at the latest. (In December I can usually stay in bed until 9a.m.) At that time of the day the sun is up but the ambient temperature is still around the mid-20 degrees Celsius and it’s just perfect for stepping out of the house to do some running. Not that I have gone out to run at that time, but I’d like to. Ü
If this were as hot as it’s going to get the entire season, I don’t think I’d have a problem with staying in the shade during the midday. Unfortunately, it’s been said that Holy Week falls on the hottest week of the summer, and that isn’t for another three weeks. My mom has scheduled a beach holiday for the family the following week in sunny, hot Boracay, so it’s a safe bet that by the end of April I’m going to have the crispy fried chicken look. Damn you, Yellow Face! But I would rather my skin burn and crack in the Sahara instead of my digits freezing off (literally) in an Antarctic wasteland.