It’s very strange living in a place that perpetually looks like a winter wonderland. I’m used to the (very) occasional snowfall—I’m talking twice in a winter, if we’re extremely lucky.
It usually goes like this. The weather forecasters announce a snowstorm. Depending on who you are, you either a) panic and run to the store to stock up on milk and bread, b) you’re from somewhere other than North Carolina (or just an experienced driver), so you calmly sit back and watch all the locals run around like crazy, or c) you get extremely excited (after all, it’s SNOW!). The flurries fall during the night and everyone wakes up to a pristine world of clean, white snow. It’s usually melting by the next day.
But here in Fairbanks, the view out my living room window hasn’t changed in two weeks. If anything, it’s gotten snowier. The grove of trees in the neighbor’s yard wears the thickest coating of powdery snow—anywhere from 1 inch to 4-5 inches. The small snow hill on the deck stays stubbornly at 3 feet or so. The roads fluctuate from being entirely white to showing off some blacktop; it just depends on whether it’s snowed recently and if the snowplows have come by.
I’m not tired of the view. Even the cold doesn’t bother me too much. But the lack of exercise does. I’m going stir crazy. I was desperate enough the other day that I started walking circles inside our small house. Five minutes, I told myself. Once the clock on the stove announced that yes, I had spent a solid 300 seconds wearing a crease into the carpet, I decided on another five minutes. Apparently I was stomping, since Drew then tried to convince me to step lightly so I wouldn’t irritate the downstairs neighbors. I switched to walking on my tiptoes.
It’s so hard to convince myself to go to the gym after Drew’s come home; to pile on the outerwear, spend ten minutes in the car, and motivate myself to bike, or lift weights, or bounce up and down on an elliptical. But after a weekend of inactivity due to a cranky baby, a husband on call, and (let’s be honest) pure laziness, I’m convinced. I’m a pretty active person and I know myself: I’m happier when I have a routine of lifting, cardio, and yoga. I will not let the Alaskan winter turn me into a soft, flabby couch potato!
So I’ve given myself an ultimatum. It’s either the gym or running for 30 minutes outside…on the snow packed road…in -15 degree weather (oh yes, I’ve seen several crazy people out there doing exactly that).
So, I'm telling myself…take your pick.