Where It’s Warm and Comfortable

Dearest Rachel –

After having folded it up to allow Kris room to work in the bedroom when she came over to clean on Friday, I finally got around to reassembling the treadmill last night upon our return home from Sparks. I figured I would wake up early this morning, like I usually do, and in lieu of hitting the gym (because the January temperatures are really hitting hard this week, and they’re expected to get that much worse come Thursday), I’d power out an hour or so while listening to the latest news podcast (as opposed to having the computer on and blaring about it, since that would run the risk of yet another circuit break, which is the last thing needed on a cold day like this).

Thus stocked with all the best of intentions, I bundled myself off to bed, with the comforter spread out over the entire expanse for once; up until now, it’s been bunched up on your side, a small mountain blocking my view of the temperature readout on the heater pointed at Daniel’s recliner (as you know, I prefer the room to be as close to pitch dark as possible in order to sleep in, despite being perfectly capable these days of falling asleep in a well-lit room). It covers up the quilt already laid out over the bed, but it isn’t as if we aren’t thoroughly familiar with the shirts adorning it – and some of them are getting so much more exposure than they used to when you were around and had plenty of others to wear. Besides, as I mentioned, this week is going to be spent testing the line between positive and negative Fahrenheit temperatures; every one of us in the house (with the possible exception of Logan, who is both well-insulated and ensconced in the upper levels of the main house, so he’s getting the strongest effects from the furnace as its heat rises to his room) is going to need all the warmth they can get.

I’d mention that you know where good intentions lead, but considering the cold, that seems a little misplaced. Then again, Dante insisted that the lowest depths of that place were colder than humanly possible, so there may yet be something to it. Besides, the room never got that kind of cold overnight, although at the same time, it never quite got up to what’s typically considered to be ‘room’ temperature (i.e., 70ºF), either. But under those covers, it was more than sufficiently cozy to get in a good night’s sleep.

That, and infinitely more so, in fact. I didn’t open my eyes this morning until… well, let’s just say that it was decidedly light out. And given that it’s still barely halfway through January, even in my half-awake state, I knew it was considerably later than I’d intended to sleep. Sure enough, a quick roll to my left verified that it was well on its way to eight o’clock – and given that I always intend (there’s that word again) to head over to my office by around nine, I had barely an hour to get up, make myself presentable, grab breakfast, and head out. There would be no time to work out today, unless when I got home, the boys were busy together watching something – which, given that I usually call it a day long before five (even if I stop somewhere on the way to shop, I’ll be home to hang out with Daniel for a while before Logan gets off from his work shift), isn’t likely.

Now, I’m not saying that my body sabotaged my brain’s plan to exercise. To be honest, apart from my left ankle and right pinkie toe, most of my body has gotten on board with the whole regimen. Well, the left tricep isn’t fond of the weight training either, but if it’s going to be just treadmill activity, he doesn’t seem to object all that much. The spinal column gets a little cranky after thirty or forty minutes, but it’s mollified by a nice hot shower afterwards, at which point the entire body is grateful for (especially the nose). My point is, I don’t have the same internal conflict to the process that I used to have.

That having been said, though, the body knows where it’s warm and comfortable – under the covers – and even unconscious, it knows where it wants to be, and lets the brain know it by not disturbing it for as long as possible. Even the eyes, which you’d expect to be reacting to the sunlight as it seeps into the room, are in on the act, staying shut until ordered to open up by the finally awoken brain (although to be fair, there’s still a considerable amount of cloud cover outside; it’s not that bright out, just enough that it’s clear that it’s late in the morning, as far as I’m concerned).

The brain, for its part, seems to have accepted that it really isn’t in control of the situation. It has its own priorities (such as getting to the ‘office’ at a certain time) that take precedence over the need for a workout. Besides, it rationalizes, the body seems to know what it needs; if it takes that much extra rest, maybe that was necessary. Whether it convinces the body to put in some workout time later in the day remains to be seen, but thus far, it doesn’t seem to be raising the same kind of fuss about this as it used to.

Hey, maybe it’s as much affected by the cold as the rest of me.

For now, though, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.