The time of year has come when I heat my mug with boiling water before I pour my coffee in. My coffee stays warm longer that way. We’ve had fires in the fireplace the last two nights, and I had to add another layer of clothes during the day yesterday to keep from shivering at lunch.
In other words, it’s cold.
I’m actually eager for the cold this year. I love a crackling fire. I love the forced restfulness and the introspection the dark brings.
What I don’t love is that the cold makes exercise more fussy. I can’t get up and run first thing because it’s dark out. And then when it does become light, it’s cold, and I don’t want to go out in it. I don’t know how to dress for it. If I dress to make myself more likely to step out the door — warmly — then I’ll get hot on my run and won’t have anywhere to store the clothes I’ll want to shed.
Right now I wear running tights, socks that come above my ankles so no skin is exposed in the gap between the bottom of my tights and the tops of my socks, a long-sleeved running shirt, and a puffy vest, ready to get myself outside as soon as it’s light, which it is now. Except I’m also under a fleece blanket, and I’m going to be cold when I get out from under it.
The wind blows across the top of the chimney, making a gusty metallic sound. I see the treetops sway. I guess I’ll need my windbreaker, too. And the new gloves I bought to encourage myself to get outside and run in the cold.
I know I’ll like it once I do it. It’ll be bracing. It’ll be invigorating. It’ll be better than workout videos in the basement. Okay, here goes.