Winterizing

It started about two weeks ago. Exhaustion replaced tired in the end-of-the-day-feeling department. Indoors replaced out of doors, and dark beer now rules Middle Earth. My Chaco sandals have been inching closer to storage space, and my freshly painted toe nails are being suffocated by cotton, polyester and wool material practically twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

If it looks like seasonal change, acts like seasonal change, well…experience tells me it must be seasonal change. More precisely, winter…ish. The calendar that hangs on the cork board in my kitchen area declares that winter begins on December 21. But my nose tells me otherwise. Every year, there comes a time when the very tip of my nose becomes chilled on a regular basis. A chill so noticeable, and slightly alarming, that it encourages me to resolve its nature and my nose’s discomfort. I have worn scarves. I have cupped my nose with my hand to generate heat. I have buried my nose underneath blankets. I have even Googled “nose hat” in hopes of finding a solution. With the exception of the “nose mitten,” a sketchy looking contraption that I could not justify payment for, but found quite humorous, I have not found an adequate resolution to the Big Chill that does not involve relocation. My favorite season, to date, IS California.

Despite my literary aggravation for colder weather, however, I actually enjoy its challenge. It forces me to change my itinerary. Gone are the days of weekday outdoor activity until dark: thirty. Adjustments must be made to satisfy my activity level. While I could easily see myself taking naps after work, watching hours of mindless, albeit funny, television and creating an extra layer of insulation with starchy meals and dark beverage, I must resist this…what I can only assume…natural state of being. I mean, what’s not natural about hibernation, stagnation, and a “winter coat”? It’s instinctual, right?

With that being said, should a person surrender to the body’s reaction during seasonal change, or resist its needs for the sake of our own desires? And, in doing so, does that create a negative reaction from the body resulting, often, in illness? I am stubborn enough to force my exhausted body to attend an indoor cycling class after work because I am used to doing outdoor activity. But does the maintained fitness that is a result of the exertion truly benefit the body when done against its will? I’m not sure I’m willing to sacrifice my desires to test the theory.