Hello, January

Appeared in the Idaho State Journal on January 3, 2021.

While writing last week’s piece I was in a chipper emotional state having revisited my smiles of 2020 in a photo project for our kids. This week, I just spilled an exquisitely blended cup of coffee and eggnog all over my laptop keyboard. I’m typing this on my phone with my thumbs. What a fitting farewell to 2020 and perfect prelude to 2021. Hello, January.

I don’t like January. My favorite dog died in January six years ago. My mom died in January twenty years ago, and although it’s just weeks after the winter solstice indicating the days will start getting lighter, we still have 14 hours of darkness on any given day.  January is dreadful and dark.

I’ve considered that I might need antidepressants in the winter. When I first heard about seasonal affective disorder or SAD (my, how fitting), I realized I fit the bill beautifully. I have, so far, managed each mounting January with an awareness and acceptance of how the “winter blues” affect me, but also with the gold standard mental health tricks of healthy eating, increased water, and daily exercise.  January is sit-ups and celery.

When January and I do get along, it’s because I am the one making all of the effort.  I kick off the new year with a weekly meal prep comprised of recipes and vegetables. I plant healthy snacks around the house with inspirational and cautionary sticky notes.  An arsenal of herbal tea is assembled at home and at work, and I get up earlier to ensure there’s time for exercise.  I check the weather app for forecasts of sun and arrange those workdays by a window with time outside. Our dogs love a cold, sunny mid-day walk, and the bounce in their steps with wind-sniffing smiles inspire the same in me. January is effort and intention.

The only thing January seems to bring to our relationship is the appearance of a fresh start. After this past year, I’m certainly up for a fresh start in various avenues. I can envision so many possibilities with my career, fitness, friendships and general habits, but that also feels stressful with the confines and influence of the COVID-19 pandemic still in full swing.  Does this fresh start have to happen immediately? January is promise and pressure.

Every winter, I go on a trip to Vegas for a long weekend.  The joyous preparation takes up brain space in the weeks beforehand, and the afterglow usually carries me right into March. Spending three days surrounded by the bustle, cigarette smoke and “sin” make me appreciate tranquil, fresh, wholesome Idaho. As the trips wind down, I can’t wait to get home. I have some dear friends with birthdays in January and we usually enjoy game nights and fanfare, but none of that will be happening in 2021.  This January will be lonesome and different.

People often tell me I would like January more if I skied. I’ve tried it on a number of occasions and, even with the latest and greatest ski technology, it’s a no-go for this former rugby player’s back and knees. With my love of mountain biking, winter fat-biking would seem like a natural fit, but I’m a purist and want the dirt beneath my wheels and the hot sun on my shoulders.   January’s misery is probably why I feel such love for June and September in southeast Idaho.   January is the grueling uphill before the magnificent descent. 

As Kindergarten as it may sound, whatever this January will be is up to me. The dreadful and dark. The sit-ups and celery. The effort and intention. The promise and pressure or lonesome and different. January will always be a hill I have to climb. And here it is. I best get pedaling.