Thanksgiving was a perverse eating mission.(This post is old but I like it.) It always is. Rarely do I finish our family meal without removing my pants. We are, after all, family. Who cares if Uncle Danno is pantless? Nobody. Just keep eating. Like a bear I find myself carbo stacking to get myself through the cold days ahead. I lumber around the house gorging myself on berries and the flesh of lesser animals. I put gravy on everything. I would have put it in my coffee if I hadn’t exhausted our gravy reserves. Pie? Yep. What kind? All of them. Piece after piece. A quick lap around the yard to move the blood from my stomach to my limbs then back inside to consume more. It’s disgusting and so am I.
Yesterday I woke up to eighty-two-degrees of swampy muck, but seven hundred miles later I was in twenty-two-degrees of crisp alpine whiteness. It is not often that we find ourselves in this type of situation but it does happen. I’ve noticed something about my aging body. I have to get right back at it when I’ve been off the exercise for even a few days. Otherwise, a downward trend begins. Just like bookmaking, there is ALWAYS a reason NOT to do something. Like hike in cold weather, up a mountain.
Within three minutes of starting my hike, I found myself an ice sheet wondering if I should attach my spikes. Ten seconds later I was flat on my back staring at the sky wondering if my limbs were still attached. I got very lucky. My backpack was the real hero, keeping my melon from hitting the ground. Spikes on I made my way up the mountain. With each bend came more snow. A lone hiker had broken trail for me but I still found myself moving slowly and sinking in the six to eight inches of powder.
The mountain looks and feels new in conditions like this. The cold makes us move inward, in both mind and body. Fingers and toes numbing in minutes but standing and looking out over a snow-covered landscape is one of the great pleasures in life. Something has changed in me, and I knew it as soon as I began the run down the mountain. I’m not the same me I was a few months ago. I’ve changed. I’m here now and this place is seeping into my being. The changes of seasons echoed in the changes in me.
I don’t know what the future holds but I’m waiting patiently for what I can’t fully control.