Dispatches from the 38-degree summer burnout zone
It was 38°C by mid-afternoon, and I was already Googling “Can sweat fatigue be fatal?” My phone was stuck to my palm. My inner thighs had fused. The air smelled faintly of wildfire smoke and broken dreams. Somewhere between the endless sun and the pressure to make the most of it, I realized I didn’t need another holiday. I needed a vacation from my vacation.
This wasn’t just a case of workplace burnout. It was something more elusive: summer exhaustion. That unique kind of drained, overstimulated sensation that arises from trying to savour a season that feels more like a test of endurance than a time of relaxation. If you’ve ever felt this way, you’re not alone.
Don’t get me wrong, summer sounds magical. Long days, rosy sunsets, sandals and smoothies, and that nostalgic hum of possibility. But real-life summer? It’s often just hot, hectic, and vaguely smoky. It’s sunscreen in the eyes, trying to “make memories” while your core temperature climbs and your patience quietly evaporates.
There’s an unspoken pressure to live your best life in summer. You’re supposed to be outdoorsy, glowing, always up for one more picnic, one more hike, one more lakeside gathering. And if, like me, you don’t drink alcohol and prefer your holidays a little more low-key, you can start to feel like an accidental killjoy in your own life story.
At one point, after a group trip that involved a broken fan, four different bug sprays, and someone’s enthusiastic suggestion of sunrise yoga (absolutely not), I came home more exhausted than I left. My suitcase was unpacked. My spirit was not.
That’s when I made a conscious decision to stop pursuing a flawless summer and start choosing something gentler, more me. It was a journey towards self-acceptance, and it’s a journey you can take too.
That meant simplicity. Stillness. Clean, cooling habits that didn’t require a getaway or a jam-packed social calendar. I began waking early to sit in the one patch of shade on my balcony with coffee and a notebook. I swapped iced lattes for lemon water and started freezing grapes like some minimalist sorbet genius. I made peace with slow, early morning walks before the heat crept in, light stretching instead of intense workouts, and unapologetic afternoon rests.
And I’ve learned to stop feeling guilty for turning down invitations. No to weekends packed with commitments. No to social plans that leave me feeling drained. No to the inner voice that says I’m wasting summer if I’m not constantly on the go. It’s okay to say no, and it’s OK for you too.
Instead, I’m embracing the quiet rituals that bring me back to life. Breathwork in front of a fan. Skin-soothing showers. Gentle music. Dinner that doesn’t involve turning on the stove. I am choosing moments that feel real and nourishing, not curated for someone else’s expectations.
Because summer isn’t a performance, it’s a season. One that, like all seasons, will pass. And I don’t want to remember it as a blur of sweat and stress. I want to remember that I listened to my body, cared for it, and permitted myself to rest.
Even if the only thing I accomplish is staying cool and hydrated.
Honestly? That feels like a win.
Amy Tucker is a University Instructor at Thompson Rivers University and proudly calls herself an “accidental athlete.” As a senior swimmer and long-distance open-water enthusiast, she has represented Team Canada on the Age-Group Triathlon Team for the past three years. Amy is passionate about encouraging others to embrace fitness and wellness at any stage of life, proving it’s never too late to chase new challenges.