On Adjusting to a New Season
We come from Perth. The land of eternal summer. The sun may get a little low in the sky in June, and the days a little shorter. Sometimes it even rains. But five ‘winter’ days in seven it is completely practical to throw on a jacket and spend the day in the sun-dappled outdoors. You can ride without getting wet and, with careful planning, umbrellas become completely redundant. The days don’t get ridiculously short, and the trees don’t lose their leaves. It doesn’t snow, and we rarely scrape ice from our windscreens – yet everyone still hates ‘winter’ . . . especially us.
So, anticipation of a European winter is something Colby and I met with apprehension. Sure, there have been some amazing holidays in winter-wonderlands. Skiing in Japan rocked and a White Christmas is magical, but when reality hits, the novelty wears off. We suffer from cabin-fever, badly, and have a tendency to comfort-eat our way through the cold, dark days – and who wouldn’t with an endless selection of new seasonal treats? This, coupled with a distinct lack of outdoor training options, spells Potential Disaster.
The demise of summer this year was mercifully fast. Like a Band-aid, torn unexpectedly from a wound. The temperature dropped from thirty degrees to ten, and cut-off shorts made way for Ugg boots in the space of a day. In twenty-four hours we went from lavishing the summer sun to willing an encore, but the performance was over . . . for good.
Autumn in the stunning Dordogne however, didn’t exactly offer the kind of bleak, miserable transition we’d expected. And there was no time to lament the cold. Orange leaves fluttered from the Poplar trees as tourist crowds thinned, and carpets of crimson crept across stone walls and timber roofs. Historic villages napped in the lazy sun, their treasures grounded in the cobbled streets and market squares, rather than souvenir shops and high-season cafes. Traffic banked up behind tractors not motor homes, and the scent of freshly turned soil filled the air. People wrapped scarves tighter around their faces, pondering the hundred varieties of pumpkin dominating their local market. French country life. It was raw and real, and it was all new to those of us from the land of eternal summer.
Life suddenly stopped being about chasing mountains and sights. Full-day cycling safaris were traded for jigsaw puzzles, books, and wine with new friends. Balmy evenings and ice-cream, became wood fires and fondue. And the pursuit of new places and achievements made way for reflection, planning and the establishment of new goals. Life shifted from what we see and do, to how we live.
It’s been six months since we flew away from our million-mile-an-hour lives, yet old habits die hard, it seems. With one big, beautiful world to see, the ‘flat-out’ mentality followed us. Only the cold we’ve dreaded has stopped us in our tracks and pushed us toward another pace. But far from shivering and depressed, we’ve welcomed the change. Afterall, just like Mother Nature’s treasures, lying dormant for the winter, we all need a break from being awesome, right?
Sure there’s still all that red wine, fondue and a couple of will-power-less cyclists, but with a little out of the box thinking, a pair of boxing gloves and a stationary trainer, we may just have the winter months covered. Throw in a new, structured training plan for the Maratona next summer and I have no doubt those Christmas Market feasts will go to a good use . . . for something other than rendering my wardrobe redundant.
I’m a creature of habit . . . and I’ve never been good with change. I find something comforting in routine. In knowing what tangible inputs produce a desired outcome (and in the knowledge I can come out the end of winter without a wardrobe full of clothes that no longer fit!) But the leaves will never turn a brilliant shade of red, flutter to the ground and sprout fresh in the land of eternal summer. Just like I’ll never find the ‘something more’ I always yearned for, buried in my old routines. While I was lamenting the cold, the change in season and the change in routine, I was missing out on new experiences, and missing out on my chance to recharge. So instead of craving the familiar this winter, I am going to embrace the opportunity to experience something new. Something we don’t experience at home and something we wouldn’t even experience on a month long holiday. I’m going to embrace a new way of living. And If Autumn is anything to go by, it’s going to be great.
