|Photo credit Don Ricker / Skylight Photo|
Winter fade. My toes nestled against my merino wool socks inside my winter boots. The crunchy echo of the fat tires buzzing across the frozen packed snow. The wind chill pecking at my exposed nose. The stiff cold air infiltrating my lungs. The toasty warm feeling stirring in my working legs. The cozy warmth creeping up from my quads into the rest of my body. The cool morning stillness. There is a certain awakening feeling about the cold that you don’t get with summer warmth. A feeling of aliveness. A feeling of purposeful movement. My body enters into this heightened state, becoming less lazy as it revs up in order to start ramping up heat production. Each effort and movement actually helping it do its thing. My fat cells living up to their purpose, as insulation, and as a source of energy. Nothing more is needed. Proficient simplicity. Just the ease of this moment. Body, mind and soul melt into my bike. The bike and rider disappear. All that is left is the riding. Winter fade.