This gives me pause. What world am I in that I am so uncomfortable in the cold, secured by layers of clothes, yet her sleek coat is all she has on and I know she feels the cold but it does not immobilize her. Why do I as a human, because I "know" it is cold, become reptilian and am totally at a stand still, impatiently waiting for the spring thaw. I am jealous of her happiness. I decide to jump around and call her back and try to jog a bit to move the blood around and heat up the inner core. I call on my yoga practice of stillness and visualization of a bright hot sun within my center warming me up. Nada. The wind bites my nose and it drips, it stings my eyes and they tear. I cannot see well when that happens so I raise my hand to wipe IT away. My gloves are so bulky they poke my eye. It is useless. I am a prisoner of my protective clothing. How do skiers do it? Am I of such lesser mettle that I am the only one who cannot bear this incessant cold weather?
When I moved here last November residents stated emphatically that it does not get cold here (in western NC). Hah! What is cold to them anyway? Way below zero? I have some phenomenal boots by Pajar-Canadian made and they claim to keep one warm at -76 below Celsius. Qu'est-ce c'est -78 celesius? I bought them at endless.com and am eternally grateful to them for stocking Pajar. I want more. Anyway, I digress. Cold is 30 degrees or less. I am experiencing 8 degrees with a wind chill that makes it feel like below 2 degrees. Two degrees? Cold in Florida is below 55. That was when I dug out the woolen suits and my trusty Calvin Klein black shearling hooded coat that I bought (and thankfully kept) 20+ years ago. Ah, foresight...I knew a classic when I saw it and knew it was an investment that might not reap its rewards immediately, but bought it anyway. I am grateful for having it walking the dog. Wind does NOT go through this coat. It does go onto any exposed parts-my face. My next trek is to Asheville in search of a woolen face mask to cover cheeks, forehead and nose. I digress again. Ultimately I love fashion and must feel semi-fashionable even when I am walking the dog on a deserted golf course on trails covered in slush and ice and mud. The boots help my psyche. I slather Burt's Bee's on my dry lips and Bliss' Body Butter on my hands. I am ready as I will ever be...onward Chloe, mush, mush, for an hour of exercise...
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