February's Fury

I have a theory that those of us in the north over commit ourselves to the point of peril in the winter months as a survival mechanism. At first blush that may sound like a non sequitur, but having survived almost 15 winters in this community, I believe it to be a reality.

There is a serene pause that descends in December, a time when life slows down to a familial trickle, when business is put aside in favour of holiday traditions and family. January begins as a soft whisper and slowly builds up to a mighty roar as we swing into February. By this time, it is pure madness with burgeoning calendars and demands on our time at work, at home and in the community.

The feeling of overload seems pervasive in my world at the moment, exacerbated by rehearsals for the play that we need to open one week from tomorrow. But as we squeeze the life out of each minute of our short days, suddenly we look up and realize that the eaves trough is dripping and winter's grip has given way to spring's embrace.

So, my theory is that we unconsciously pack more things into our lives in the deep dark days of winter than we probably should, because it facilitates a quicker passing of time, a survivable portage between seasons. When you're in the thick of it, you wish it otherwise, but when you've passed through and look back, you wonder where the time went, and that mean nasty winter you thought would never end.

February 18, 2010 - 195.2 pounds, 26.6% body fat


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