Both Ann and I were curious as to how our walking would be affected during our recent two-week vacation to sunny Sarasota, Fla. at the end of June. It took all of about three minutes to understand just how much of a role humidity and heat can play in your desire to walk.

Having arrived in Sarasota on a Sunday evening, we decided to go walking around 11 a.m., after having slept in far too long. Our journey over the next two hours was not only torturous on our bodies, as we struggled through a 95-degree sunny day, but the humidity had to be around 800 percent, and the heat index surely had to be somewhere hot enough to scald a frog to the sidewalk if it stopped for a millisecond.

Our six-mile walk went fine for the first three miles. The problem was, after finding ourselves three miles from home, with one water bottle that was now hot enough to boil potatoes, we realized that we would have to retrace our steps, and these steps were far from fun. By the time we reached a 7-11, which was about one mile from our destination, we were absolutely spent.

Along the way, the tiny oasis of shade, which protruded from the sparse trees, lured us into false hope over and over, while the far-too-few gusts of wind would only laugh at us as they approached, and then seemingly slide to the side just before they would get to our now-roasting skin.

I don’t know if you have ever drank water from the faucet of the rest room at a 7-11 (we had no money!), but it may have been the best water to ever pass through my throat.

Despite the lack of finances, I was not stopped from opening up the frozen food door to explore what kind of ice cream might be good. However, my date with the luscious cold air cascading over my face and shoulders was way too short for my liking. I guess I should have pulled out before the Rocky Road and French Vanilla Ben & Jerry’s made a pool of melted ice cream around my feet.

Well, that was quite an experience, and let me tell you, a fantastic lesson into the world of walking in Florida.

It was, as stated in the title, six miles of absolute hell.

From then on, we found our way around the roads of Bahia Vista Estates in the morning when the sun wasn’t scorching, but even then, it was still hot and humid.

Which brings us to seven seconds of heaven. As we traversed the park roads, there was one particularly large tree at the rear of the complex which rose high above the road. It’s shade was always a welcome relief from the overpowering heat of the evil sunshine. And since we made four passes by that particular spot, it was always a highly anticipated moment in our walk.

Ahhh, the seven seconds of heaven.

As the two weeks rolled by, the walking got easier and easier as we adapted, and one day we even ventured a mile down Bahia Vista Road to a fresh produce market, where we proceeded to purchase a watermelon, which I had to lug back to the house through the mid-day sun.

BIG mistake!

But through it all we persevered, and walking anywhere from three miles to up to 10 throughout each day, we stayed the course, walking farther than 60 miles over 12 days.

So where did that leave us as we left June and entered July, meaning that we had now reached the halfway point of the year?

Yours truly pulled into July at 622.7 miles, way over what I need for my 1,000 miles, and more than I need for my venture to the wonderfully refreshing mountains of the Mile High City.

Ann now sits — that’s not a very good choice of words, is it — at 865.8 miles through June, meaning that she will have to pick up the pace a little to achieve the goal of reaching San Diego, a goal of which I now realize may have been a poor choice for me to make for her. I do believe that if she had her say, she would take a quick detour to Phoenix, Ariz., which would be a much more attainable 1,750 miles. That may be an option, Maybe I should have checked with her before I fired out that whole San Diego thing.

Regardless, she is a bastion of inspiration to me as I continue to do something for myself which has had such an amazing impact on my personal life.

Our mileage leaves me having passed through Des Moines, Iowa and taking a pit stop in Fort Dodge, Iowa, where... well, let’s face it, not much is going on in Fort Dodge, other than it is one of America’s most quickly shrinking cities, with people leaving in droves for some reason.

Ann is zooming by Wichita, Kan., as she continues her tour through the nation’s flattest, most boring states.

Based on how far I’ve walked, and how long my steps are, I figure I have now taken more than 1.2 million steps in my trek toward 1,000 miles. Ann, because of her smaller steps, has probably taken at least 1.6 million.

Well, back to the pavement. Have fun walking and keep it up!