A Roll in the Snow

On Christmas Day in that uncomfortable time, I looked out my back window to see the first snow of the year. How fortunate that I would be enjoying a white Christmas, albeit a solitary one. Some people are sad during the holidays and some people hate being alone no matter what time of year. In my case, I am never sad during the holidays, and I personally enjoy my own company. I was told once by a fortune teller that most people would be driven mad by spending as much time alone as I do, but that I could go for months without seeing a soul and be just fine. It’s true. I guess you could say I am a bit of a loner. Or maybe I’m mad and just don’t know it.

I'll let you decide.

That beautiful white Christmas in 2020 was the culmination of a year that everyone was sad, or frightened, or lonely. Me included. I thought back to the beginning of the year when I was waking up each cold morning to take cold showers in training for the Polar Plunge that takes place every New Year’s Day at Lake Lure. But as March rolled around and the news of a dreaded pandemic spread across the world, I suddenly switched back to warm comforting showers.

I stood in my kitchen drinking coffee and looking at a pink sunrise, ruminating about the goal set last year and how it was too late to prepare for it with New Year’s Day just a week away. I had grown up in a state where it never snowed and longed to see snow as a child. Finally at the ripe old age of 36 I saw snow for the first time and was quite disappointed. It blew in as a dark, gray blizzard. True die-hard skiers ventured out in it, but I stayed in warm cafes as much as possible. A year later I would find myself stuck in Zurich due to a flight delay and wake up to the most picturesque winter morning one could ever hope for. The large picture window in the hotel lobby faced a public park blanketed in white powdery snow. People walked their dogs and others rode bicycles on winding pathways. The sky was a beautiful clear blue. My wish had been granted the second time around.

I put my empty mug down on the counter and went to change into a bikini. While ruminating over the past I started to come up with a substitute idea for that Polar Plunge. I dared myself to roll in the snow wearing only my bathing suit. My back yard was surrounded by a wire fence that offered no privacy, so decorum was necessary. I wrapped a towel around my scantily clad body and put my bathrobe on over it. With a coat hanger in hand and my cold feet in a pair of Crocs I stood at my backdoor once again looking at the snow through the glass.

I must have stood there for a good 15 minutes. It is not easy to dare yourself to do something like this. Especially with no one around to hold you accountable. I asked myself “Can I live with myself if I don’t go through with my own dare?”. I thought back to how I had taken at least a week of cold showers at the beginning of the year in preparation for the plunge into Lake Lure on New Year's Day. I was developing discipline. A daring person lived somewhere inside of me. I could do it. I just had to get up the nerve.

Finally, I stepped out onto the back porch. I hooked the coat hanger on the overhang and took off my robe and slippers. Wrapped in the towel, I stepped into the snow and began the climb up a slope in my back yard. Once at the top, I dropped the towel, lay down in the snow and rolled down 5 feet of snow. It was a dizzying experience to say the least. I hadn’t thought of how fast I would be rolling. Getting up was difficult and I hoped that no one would see me through the fence as I staggered like a drunk person. I steadied myself on a post and put on the Crocs and robe. I went into the warmth of my heated house and sat in my living room to assimilate the whole experience. No hot shower or diving under the covers allowed. Just looking out my living room window at the snow-covered front lawn while slowly warming up.

Mission accomplished with no one there to witness it. There was no selfie picture immortalizing the moment on social media. No phone calls to friends or family bragging about my daring feat. Just a moment of self-satisfaction, knowing that I had met the challenge. One cell phone snapshot of the track my body left in the snow was the only proof I had of my substitute for the Polar Plunge. What other areas of my life would I take a similar challenge? The new year would tell.

A train whistle blew in the distance nudging me to move on with my day. Christmas Day, two thousand and twenty. The year the world almost went mad. Three years have gone by and now I meet people who look like they are totally over being afraid. People want to live and connect with one another. It warms my heart to see total strangers talking to one another in the streets and shops. Despite so much chaos still happening outside our windows, people are rolling down their own slippery slopes and getting back up to meet the challenge. Maybe with the realization that they are stronger and more courageous than ever before. Or is this just the musings of a mad woman? You can be the judge.

Next time it snows on Christmas day, I will climb to the top of the slope in my backyard and roll parallel to the porch instead of down toward it. I dare myself to roll 3 times for every year that has passed since my first roll in the snow. My word is as good as gold.