There are certain things I know I cannot do.
I cannot eat green peppers unless I want sharp, stabbing pains in my stomach. Not to mention they taste terrible.
I cannot spend the day in the sun without applying sunblock every two hours. Despite what people think my hair says about me, I am a white girl of Irish descent. The sun is not my friend.
I cannot spend the day in the sun unless I drink at least a gallon of water, preferably half before leaving the house, and the other half throughout the day.
To counteract my nervous stomach, it helps to skip a meal. Big presentation in the morning? No breakfast. Taking an evening flight? Skip lunch. (However, I cannot skip meals when I need to be nice to people.)
Is it strange that I know these things about my body? I’m approaching forty. I think by my age, people should know their body’s limits and maybe stop pushing them so hard. I believe in doing the impossible, yes, but I shouldn’t try the impossible on Saturday when I’m supposed to be commuting back to company headquarters at the ass-crack of dawn Monday morning.
We made plans for this weekend long before I knew I would be doing this once-in-a-lifetime work project. My parents came to town for the state’s biggest car show: Good Guys Hot Rod and Custom Nationals. We met them there. We were late, we forgot my dad’s Father’s Day present, and I didn’t have any water before we left because I was fighting my hair into a braid for far too long.
Recipe for disaster. By 2:15 p.m., after four large state fair lemonades (you know, sugar water), I was a big ball of pain. NO ONE HAD WATER. I filled up my lemonade cup once at a water fountain, but we were outside most of the day, and none of the vendors had bottled water.
Ladies, I may be unique in this, but I get dehydrated in the lady parts first. That is a pain I wish on no one, ever. In college, I thought I had some horrible form of yeast infection that would never go away. When the same pain followed me to my teaching job, I started paying attention. It went away when I drank water. Hmm…
With no water option, I left the fairgrounds early today. I’m sad because I really wanted to see the big smile on my dad’s face each time he saw something he liked.
Now, after ibuprofen, a cranberry pill, two quarts of iced tea and a gallon of water, I feel human again. Next year, Good Guys. Next year, I will be better prepared.