Monday, September 18, 2017

Shift in The Weather

    The shift in the weather, though inevitable, and not unexpected, always stirs up something deep inside of me. An unrest. A sense of urgency with a hint of desperation and dread. The first heavy rain of September, heralding the death of Summer. Already I feel an itch of cabin fever, a tickling of stir crazy. And it is only the second day of rain.
    I also know that the rain will be over in a day or so, and we will be blessed with dry weather, sunshine, but cooler temps. Again, it is inevitable. Yesterday I put away tools, covered bags of concrete, dug potatoes, and mowed the lawn, all with an eye towards the gathering clouds and my hair whipping in the gusty pre-storm winds. Then the rains came and I came indoors and baked bread. Today I ran in the rain.
    And now I sit, pecking away on the keyboard while a tempest presses against the inside of my ribcage. It is a peculiar feeling, one I am all too familiar with. I tried to describe it to my Mom, with dubious success. I feel an inner pressure, maybe I am a human barometer? An inner pressure to be going, doing, chasing, hiking, running, cycling, something, anything, anything other than sitting indoors while the rain beats against the windows. I have the overwhelming need to be doing something. But what that something is eludes me. It is an itch that can't be reached. A hunger that is vague and insatiable. It is too much like the feeling of being faced with overwhelming tasks to the point that you become dysfunctional, and all you can do is drink tea and read a book. I have done some of that today; disappear into the pages of a well written yet slightly vacuous novel with a cup of steaming tea at my elbow. I want to, need to, find tasks, line up my winter projects, litter my living room with bicycle parts and knitting and books and drawings. I need to look ahead and plan on how best to prepare my body for next summer's epic adventures while suppressing tears over adventures not yet managed this summer. I still haven't taken my new gear out for river snorkeling. Though I have gotten in some nice hiking and bike riding these last few weeks.
     It is not as if we don't know winter is coming. It comes every year with the inescapability of, well, of the seasons. They do come and go like clockwork. It is not that I dislike rain. I actually enjoy the rain. It is the loss of daylight, the short days and long nights. The darkness. And the cold. I do not like being cold. Cold makes me Sad. Being cold is honestly one of the main triggers for my winter melancholy. Cold makes me Sad. And the cold is coming.
    In my usual attempt to head it off at the pass, so to speak, I am planning my battle strategy. Online shopping is my friend, and winter workout gear is on the way. As are books to help stoke the fires of my training. Every year for the last 15 years, come September I know I have to set myself up for training of some sort. In the past, the early years of understanding, it was making sure my gym membership was ready. Now, it is making sure my living room is ready, with the gear that I need. I add gear every year. This year it is sand bags, a heavier kettlebell, and a weighted pack. Much of this with an eye towards more hiking adventures with my big red dog, Hugo. Some with an eye towards regaining my footing in the world of triathlon and trail running.
    That is all good and well, but it does nothing for my current state of unrest. The buzzing in my veins, the pressure in my chest, the thoughts ricocheting around inside my skull like so many ping-pong balls. Oh my god, maybe I am having a heart attack?!! No, that would be too easy an explanation. Another all too simple explanation would be that I am losing my mind. Again, too easy. No, maybe this is a primal need to make sure that all the crops are in, the food preserved, firewood stacked, wool spun, leaks filled, and blankets mended so we will survive the dark days warm and fed to emerge like a daffodil in the Spring. Maybe it is that simple, the primal need to be prepared for winter, but feeling like I have fallen short. There are still dry, sunny days ahead. A few, anyway. But the Rains are coming.