Sunday, January 25, 2009
Five degrees below zero when I awoke this a.m. Icicles slicing up the view from every window. Two layers of sweats while eating breakfast and waiting for the house to warm.
Last winter was filled with days in the 30s and 40s, and I rode outside once or twice a week, sometimes more. This month, with the exception of this past Friday, we've had about three-plus weeks of single-digits through the twenties. I rode outside yesterday out of desperation, because I'm tired of the rollers. It wasn't terrible, but it sure wasn't fun -- 24° and falling at rollout, winds gusting up to 18 mph. Being barely on the mend after a 10-day chest cold, I did 50 minutes and called it a day. Came back home to nurse Velophoriana, who is hosting a truly bad cold right now; makes mine look like a walk in the park.
I believe fiercely in keeping a positive attitude. I'm a mental health counselor for children and youth, and it's very important to walk the talk. Besides, it just makes life better. But there are weeks, even months when it's hard.
January's been pretty nasty at work. All my colleagues and I agree that all our clients/students colluded to melt down this month. Which led to some pretty long days and nights. When people fall apart who have long-standing mental health challenges to begin with, it leads to stuff no one should have to witness, much less go through first-hand. I'm pretty sure I'd be stronger with it all if I were able to ride outside with some degree of comfort and regularity. I haven't slept well since December, when I still had regular weekly road rides, and insomnia doesn't help when dealing with the rest of the puzzle pieces.
I think that 2.5 hour jaunt in the 14° temps two weeks ago might have set me up for this cold (along with work crises and all the other stuff). Gotta watch that metabolism; I turn 45 in five weeks or so. The old car will still roll along pretty well once I warm it up and unwind it... but the OEM battery sure don't hold the charge like it used to.
Ah, winter! Insomnia. Mental illness. Indoor riding. Darkness. Frigid chill. Colds. Intimations of mortality.
How many weeks until April?
[Ed. note: With our next post, we banish Velomisery, and return you to our regularly scheduled upbeat content.]