Wimp out

We’re wimps.

Don’t try to deny it. The subzero weather has kicked out butts and we’re whining about it nonstop.

It wasn’t always this way. It seems to me that we used to be tougher. I know I was.

In my 30s and 40s I was a walker and would walk outside before work even in the worst winter weather — subzero, strong winds, blizzards. There I was, battling the elements for good health.

Nowadays, I’ve wimped out and can be most often found pedaling on the easy setting of my stationary bike.

On the nightly news, the weather people shiver and complain about the long stretch of cold. “When will it end,” they whine to the meteorologist.

In April, I think to myself.

I, too, have been whining. On my call to Mom today I opened the conversation with, “Oh, gosh, that wind. It just cuts through you.”

How do I know? Not from walking outside. I felt it scurrying it into Target to scoop on the 90 percent off Christmas bargains. Yes, that was one mighty frigid gallop across the parking lot.

So I say we quit fighting winter and succumb. Stay indoors if we must. (I think I must.) Wrap up warmly with parkas and scarves and mittens. Turn on the heated seats and let the car warm up before backing it out of the garage. (Yes, I have an attached garage so it isn’t even that bad when I do decide to leave the house.)

Let’s remember where we live. We aren’t from Alabama or Louisiana or Texas. We are Wisconsinites. We laugh at winter.

And then we take the mug of hot chocolate out of the microwave and cuddle up in a quilt to watch TV.

Take that, winter.

 

 

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6 thoughts on “Wimp out

  1. I remember the days I used to walk a mile to work and back every day in the cold, never warmed my car up in cold weather. I always turned my thermostat down at night. Now I warm my car up for fifteen minutes, keep my thermostat at 70 and I even bought long underwear that I wear when I sit watching TV with my hot chocolate. Yes I’m a WIMP and proud of it.

  2. I should have read your post earlier than tonight (01/12). You see, I have this craw that I need to walk an hour a day no matter the weather. So I defied the bitter weather late this afternoon for my hour. I was dressed for a warm outing; nonetheless, I could feel the sting of our blustery winter on my nose and in my toes, and was very comforted when I finally reached home after this act of stupidity. Maybe I am not a WIMP yet, but I could easily be convinced to become one. Maybe it’s my age…zeroing in on 80. Which brings up a good point — shouldn’t I know better?

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