Make Peace With the Cold

It's coming. Brace yourselves.

Dry, cold air, burning in your lungs, as the trees surround you, lifeless in the still, frigid air.

There's a reason they had to write a song about winter being the "most wonderful time of year," and it's because it isn't.

But this year, I'm going to try something. I'm going to try to be at peace with the winter.

This will be a challenge. As a self-proclaimed Vitamin D junkie, I'm not always sure what to do with myself on the terribly short days of the dead of winter. I think I could deal with the cold weather, if not for the limited daytime hours. How am I supposed to get in an evening bike ride? Go to the park? Do anything fun outside? ... good thing you don't have to mow the yard in the winter.

I plan to throw myself into wintry things... sewing, crafting, baking, super cold bike rides. Maybe even mountain biking... (eep!) A little balance to my love of summer and all things fueled by heat and humidity. Breathe into it, lean into it, the cold, the discomfort.

I will do it. Some days, I will inevitably falter. But overall, I will work to be peaceful.

Big Steps, Baby Steps.

I haven't taken the time to write in a while. Sometimes I sit down, type a couple paragraphs, start chasing the proverbial rabbit, and discontinue my composition. I want to express myself well. Always. I'm aiming to blog at least once a week for the month of September. Maybe I can keep that up even after these weeks of writing are over. The written word is my drug of choice... especially since I've given up caffeine. Sometimes I think I should write simply to write, in a less public forum. In a notebook, full of my thoughts and short stories, to hone the craft of wordsmithing even more. Who knows... someday maybe I will.

But right now, my life is religiously devoted to a few intricately woven threads. Paul's race... much of our family's energy is engaged in propelling him toward a good, injury-free race day on September 28th. I can't wait to cheer him across the line. As always, momming is the utmost priority... it's my vocation, what I do. I'm also seeing this curious light at the end of the tunnel, one where Hobbes goes to school, one I waited for, for so long. But now that I see it, I'm left feeling a little lost, like I'm not sure what I'll do with myself when he goes off to regular school. I'm sure it'll flesh out, and I'll find a new avenue for myself. Maybe it'll be one where I continue to stay home, stoking the home fires, or perhaps any of another million options I think about daily. Time will tell. I'm in no rush to find out.

The one thread, the thing that holds me together, the lock that has kept me spending time with my IM training husband... the glue... the bike. I did something new-ish Monday, a step I've wanted to take for a while. I went for a ride with the faster folks, with the safety net of a no-drop ride. But without the husband-along-to-rescue-me safety net I rely on all too often.

It was an easy ride for them, I'm pretty sure. A little breathless for me in places, climbing hills that even a year ago would have elicited tears instead of the occasional f-bomb that escaped my mouth the other day. Hanging on in the flats where in the past I would have been dropped. It felt good... it feels good... to see my hard work, all those miles and hours... paying off, pedal stroke by pedal stroke. I hope there's more of this to come. Someday, maybe I'll hang on without the promise of a safety net. Right now I'm grateful for the people who believe in me, coach me, and encourage me to try new, harder rides.

So today, cheers to being a stronger rider and writer, chasing the unending, always moving goals of personal growth, sometimes with big steps, sometimes with baby steps.