Snow

I have a love/hate relationship with snow. This is saying a lot since I had a primarily hate-based relationship with snow for the first 28 years of my life. I lived away from winter-y climates for most of my 20's (somewhat on purpose). But shortly after my 28th birthday, after 6 consecutive winters away from "real" winter, I moved to Ottawa. I had to buy a new winter coat, winter boots, proper gloves, scarves, you name it.

In high school, I suffered from a bit of a "I'm too cool for that stuff" attitude towards winter wear, but it never occurred to me that this attitude somehow contributed to my dislike of winter. I was also never really into winter sports, in fact, I messed up my right knee pretty bad when I was 16 while skiing in BC. I haven't put skis on since. I never loved skiing enough to feel it was worth conquering my fear of skis...and it involved things like cold, and snow, and runny noses. My life was just dandy without winter sports, thank you.

Anyway, this was my winter outlook heading into winter at the age of 28. I have to admit I was quite nervous when the weather started to cool down. I didn't have a car and there wasn't really a great bus route from my house to the university where I was studying. So, I opted for walking, which was roughly 20 minutes each way. Not bad...in summer. I distinctly remember the sense of dread I felt the whole week before the first forecast snow. Would I actually survive? Then the snow came one Friday afternoon. As the day ended, I decided it was time to venture into the dark, snowy evening for my 20 minute walk of torture. It was amazing. The first part of my walk was through a large park across from the university. The temperature was hovering near freezing and, being in Ontario and not the prairies, it was a fairly heavy, wet snow that was falling and it seemed to be changing between snowflakes and ice drops. But this effect created the most enchanting music as the heavy snow and ice fell from the trees through the top icy layer over the snow. Like tinkling glass everywhere. I didn't want to leave the park. And when I did arrive home, I think I phoned a friend and went on and on about how amazing the first snowfall was. Words I never expected to hear from my own mouth.

Then the cold came, along with a blizzard. Time to fear winter again. I pulled on my long johns, pulled out my new winter coat and boots. Took a deep breath and headed out for the walk to school. But wait! A few minutes into it, I was distinctly aware of how not uncomfortably cold I was. As I tried to process what was happening, I began to realize that dressing properly for winter, makes winter do-able. Of course winter is miserable when, as a teenager, all you're wearing are a pair of converse high tops, a hooded fleece jacket layered with a wool sweater, and maybe some finger gloves.

So, I got through the next few winters. There was still definitely some discomfort involved, and I never ventured outside unless there was a really good reason. Then last winter, I discovered snowshoeing. Some friends invited me along one day, and I figured what the heck. Must have been a moment of weakness for me to voluntarily go hang out outside in January for more than 10 minutes. So, I rented some snowshoes and off we went. It was brilliant! And I even got hot, not just "not uncomfortable", but warm enough to sometimes take my gloves off to cool down. After renting a few times, I took the plunge and bought my own pair. This was a huge step. Buying winter-related sports equipment. So this year, when it started to snow, instead of sighing and going straight into hibernation mode, I excitedly started planning my first snowshoe adventure. I barely recognize myself.

Now back to the whole love/hate relationship thing. Yes, I have learned to appreciate snow much more than I ever thought I would. It can be beautiful, even melodious. It can provide hours of amusement and exercise, especially when dressed properly. And it is even a crucial part of successful farming in this part of the world.

But this past weekend, I (we) have been reminded of the nasty side of snow. It started snowing Friday afternoon. And then it didn't stop until Sunday sometime. I shoveled twice, so did my roommate. Each time, it was though we had never put a shovel to our driveway and sidewalks before. Thankfully our neighbour helped out a little with his snowblower. I got semi-caught in snow drifts around the city several times over the weekend, but thankfully I have good winter tires that always eventually made their way out of ruts.

This didn't seem that bad. Until I woke up this morning. I seem to have pulled a few muscles while shoveling this weekend. I can barely lift my right arm. My back is aching. Today I hate snow.