Last week, a smoke warning was issued in southeast Wisconsin, where we live. This has happened before, in particular two summers ago when massive fires in western Canada percolated through the air to our territory. It was bad.
It was worse last week. The weather person came on to warn people with any type of breathing-related issues to stay indoors. Don’t exercise or do heavy work outside.
As those warnings go, I typically don’t listen. I’m healthy, exercise regularly and do regular cardio workouts in different ways.
This time though I listened. Something struck me. I think the warnings took me back to the Covid year, 2020. I was just under the age of 65 at the time and when they warned back then that people most at risk were immune-compromised or over the age of 65, I felt righteous that my age fell just under line drawn.
Do the math, and you have my age today. When the talking heads kept issuing the warnings last week, it struck me I was now in the age bracket of concern. And, yes, it concerned me.
I thought about playing golf in the haze. Then, I thought, “Uh, probably shouldn’t do that.”
I did a little bit of yard work. But I stopped myself quickly, keeping the chores minimal.
On Saturday, I played baseball and had to run hard to first base three times on base hits. Being on first base once, our next batter crushed a double and I had to sprint to third. I was sucking wind coming into third. The feeling was unusual.
Our local air quality hit 700 towards the end of the work week (though I’m confident it dropped significantly below that by our game time on Saturday). Those air quality numbers define 201-300 as very unhealthy. Over 300 is considered “hazardous.” So, we achieved “over double hazardous” last week.
Running those bases, I recognized the hazard. Yes, I knew the air was bad, and had been watching how I moved and focused on not over-exerting, but adrenaline took over. It’s hard to stop that. After catching my breath, it took me a minute to realize why I struggled.
More than 20 years ago, I was working in New Jersey and driving down the Garden State Parkway while wildfires raged. I drove through smoke. You smelled it, even felt it, in your car. It was claustrophobic and scary. With smoke that thick, I remember thinking how you could start coughing and never stop, or if you had a lung condition, you’d struggle to catch your breath. The smoke felt like it would never end.
I get the warnings now. They apply to me and a helluva large segment of our population.
It can be easy to ignore the weather reports because of how often their predictions are wrong. You can lull yourself into not believing anything they say.
That 301+ hazard ranking (maroon) is defined as, “Health warning of emergency conditions: everyone is more likely to be affected.”
It’s not just us old folks, young children and immune-compromised who are in danger. Smoke warnings are the real deal now for everyone when they hit maroon. Pay attention.
It was worse last week. The weather person came on to warn people with any type of breathing-related issues to stay indoors. Don’t exercise or do heavy work outside.
As those warnings go, I typically don’t listen. I’m healthy, exercise regularly and do regular cardio workouts in different ways.
This time though I listened. Something struck me. I think the warnings took me back to the Covid year, 2020. I was just under the age of 65 at the time and when they warned back then that people most at risk were immune-compromised or over the age of 65, I felt righteous that my age fell just under line drawn.
Do the math, and you have my age today. When the talking heads kept issuing the warnings last week, it struck me I was now in the age bracket of concern. And, yes, it concerned me.
I thought about playing golf in the haze. Then, I thought, “Uh, probably shouldn’t do that.”
I did a little bit of yard work. But I stopped myself quickly, keeping the chores minimal.
On Saturday, I played baseball and had to run hard to first base three times on base hits. Being on first base once, our next batter crushed a double and I had to sprint to third. I was sucking wind coming into third. The feeling was unusual.
Our local air quality hit 700 towards the end of the work week (though I’m confident it dropped significantly below that by our game time on Saturday). Those air quality numbers define 201-300 as very unhealthy. Over 300 is considered “hazardous.” So, we achieved “over double hazardous” last week.
Running those bases, I recognized the hazard. Yes, I knew the air was bad, and had been watching how I moved and focused on not over-exerting, but adrenaline took over. It’s hard to stop that. After catching my breath, it took me a minute to realize why I struggled.
More than 20 years ago, I was working in New Jersey and driving down the Garden State Parkway while wildfires raged. I drove through smoke. You smelled it, even felt it, in your car. It was claustrophobic and scary. With smoke that thick, I remember thinking how you could start coughing and never stop, or if you had a lung condition, you’d struggle to catch your breath. The smoke felt like it would never end.
I get the warnings now. They apply to me and a helluva large segment of our population.
It can be easy to ignore the weather reports because of how often their predictions are wrong. You can lull yourself into not believing anything they say.
That 301+ hazard ranking (maroon) is defined as, “Health warning of emergency conditions: everyone is more likely to be affected.”
It’s not just us old folks, young children and immune-compromised who are in danger. Smoke warnings are the real deal now for everyone when they hit maroon. Pay attention.
