Walk 5 of 5 — Week of May 10 — my tattoo got a sunburn

Slightly cooked cat tatto in North Phoenix.

Early Wake Up and Late Start Still Counts

The plan was solid.

• Wake up early.
• Leave the house around 6:30 a.m.
• Beat the Phoenix heat.
• Get my walk done before the sun turned into a laser beam aimed directly at my forehead.

The reality?
Well… my brain had other ideas.

“Get the pinball recap from last night posted first… THEN walk.”

So by the time I actually got out there, it was already heating up fast.

My weather app claimed it was 86°, which technically may have been true if you were:
– standing in the shade,
– inside a refrigerator,
– or emotionally detached from asphalt.

Out on the sidewalk, it felt more like:

“Welcome to the surface of Mercury. Good luck.”

Bulk pick-up, I was passed by the milk truck, prickly pear flowers, workers at the school, blazing sun.

I made it to Starbucks. Got my coffee, ate my egg bites, and had a brief Raymundo siting.

Even in the shade, I felt like I was being roasted alive.

But somehow at the exact same time, the side streets had a cool breeze moving through them, so my body spent the entire walk confused.

“Are we overheating?”
“Are we cooling down?”
“Should we panic?”
“Who knows.”

The answer was apparently:
“Yes.”

I spent the walk shade-hopping from tree to tree like a desert cryptid trying to recharge its health bar.

One giant tree became my temporary emotional support tree. I named it the Aquanet Tree because strategically placed selfies underneath it made me look like I had 80s bangs and the energy of a substitute teacher who secretly loves Def Leppard.

Honestly, I still stand by my theory that all teachers secretly love Def Leppard.

My oldest daughter and I actually went to a Def Leppard and Journey concert years ago with her 5th grade teacher, which somehow still feels completely normal to me.

Meanwhile, across the street from my overheating survival march, elementary school kids were having PE water day.

Garden hoses.

Tiny pools.

Absolute joy.

Honestly, it’s amazing how much entertainment children can get out of:
– a hose,
– some water,
– and permission to scream.

At one point a Kona Ice truck drove by me.

I thought it was just passing through to personally mock me, but then it turned into the school parking lot to deliver Italian ice to the children while I continued sweating directly through my earbuds like a tragic side character in a desert documentary.

And yes…
there reached a point where adjusting my earbud made the dreaded sweat-earbud squelch sound.

If you know, you know.

At another stop, I heard a woman working in her yard battling weeds and watering around an agave plant.

Pluck, pluck.
Spray, spray.
“Ow.”
Pluck, pluck.
Spray, spray.
“Ow.”
Honestly, I respected the commitment.

I also briefly wished she would accidentally spray me with the hose because by then my future shower had become my entire personality.

Somewhere during the walk, I realized the homeless camp next to the church on my route had disappeared between my outbound trip and my return trip. Either they packed up early that morning, or bulk trash pickup rolled through and decided “welp, guess this is all leaving today.” The mystery may never be solved.

Despite feeling absolutely cooked, my Fitbit kept insisting I was mostly in “moderate.”
Moderate.
Sure, Fitbit.

Apparently:
– sweating into your ears,
– bargaining with trees,
– fantasizing about swimming pools,
– and surviving direct Arizona sun exposure

…still qualifies as moderate effort.

But honestly?
That’s probably progress.

I finished both walks:
– 3.1 total miles
– 6,236 steps
– 65 zone minutes
– over 100 combined minutes walking

Walk Receipts

And I did the smart thing at the end:
I stopped.

I sat under the Aquanet Tree in the shade and called it good instead of forcing extra mileage just to satisfy some imaginary “perfect workout” standard.

That’s part of wellness too.

Not every walk is graceful.
Not every workout feels strong.
Not every successful day looks impressive.

Sometimes success looks like:
“Early wake up. Late start. Still counts.”

And honestly?
In Arizona heat…
survival counts extra.