Sweatfest 2009

I've never been a big fan of the heat, even growing up in year-round sunshine in California. This week reminds me why.

After two days of blistering, record-high temps of 103 and 106, we're supposed to hit 107 today, which would tie the record for this date in Portland.

What I hate is that there is no escaping the discomfort.

I went for an early run yesterday, figuring it would be 20-30 degrees cooler than mid-morning. Still, it took a good hour for me to cool down, even after a shower. When I left for work, it was already 86 degrees inside the house.

At work, a fellow editor threatened to stay overnight in his cubicle, knowing it would be far more comfortable than the humid conditions at home. During the afternoon, a staff columnist e-mailed to say it was 92 in her home office and 103 upstairs. She was thinking of coming in to work after dinner, just to get some air-conditioned respite.

This morning, I went for a swim. Thankfully, the water was only 84 degrees; the gym that I belong to normally keeps it even warmer, for the sake of the older swimmers. Still, here I am in the basement -- supposedly the coolest room in the house -- and still perspiring an hour after walking in the door.

I look at our pets and see that they, too, are trying to make the best of it. Otto, the Jack Russell terrier, is laying down on his side beneath the dining room table, only a couple feet away from Rudy, our senior cat, who's flattened himself with paws stretched out as if he were diving into a pool. And Roxie, the rabbit, is chilling out on the linoleum flooring of her cage, having already devoured the cool carrots and grapes I fed her.

If I had any sense, I'd take a furlough day and head to the nearest river. Instead, I'll dress as lightly as common sense allows and hope the city bus I ride to work is one of the rare ones with A/C.

Bring on the rain!