Those Cold Mornings

What a wakeup call—even though I’ve been awake. Yesterday I had an appointment and rode my bike. It was early, but didn’t feel so early with the time change—at least now most mornings I head out in light and not darkness. But on the way there, even with my thermal knit gloves, I couldn’t feel my fingers after five minutes. Nevertheless, I kept going.

The story of my life.

Such bone-biting cold reminded me of why I love warmth, made me grateful for my Tiny House, wish I were back in bed—while at the same time, let me know I was alive. I was super-aware of my surroundings: the near-bare trees, the carpet of leaves beneath my wheels, clear blue cloudless sky. And, in tune with my body: the frozen digits, my breath, at first sluggish, but then coming faster and hotter as I raced along, my legs, up and down with each stroke. Tingling, blood pumping, fully awake.

When I got to the office I couldn’t unbuckle my helmet; my fingers just wouldn’t cooperate. I told the nurse, It must be near freezing! She checked her wrist, her watch told her it was 31 degrees. Wow! I felt like a hero.

For all of you early-risers, a.m. dog walkers, getting your kids to school people: Enjoy your day—and these cold mornings.