I see a lot of posts celebrating fall. I get it. Autumn is a glorious time indeed; the colors, the snow in the mountains, the landscape transformed. But not all of us are welcoming fall’s return. In fact, some of us are flat out depressed about it. It’s not that I don’t like fall, many essays in Grizzlies On My Mind express my reverence for the season. Hell, my little shadow and I are both October babies, but the return of fall for me (and I think it’s safe to say for many others) isn’t a time of pure celebration.
Like a lot of people, exercise represents to me the most potent antidepressant I know. I had a counselor tell me in college that I medicate myself with exercise. I’m ok with that. Every bout of depression I’ve fought has corresponded with injury or illness. Even though I rode more days than not this week, with the change in weather, the funk set in.
Exercise is a gift, something I don’t take for granted (you don’t take anything for granted physically when living with ankylosing spondylitis), but exercise and being outside are two different sanctuaries. Putting in work outside, in the mountains, in the saddle of bike, that is next level medicine; that is gold. So, when the weather turns, and the temps drop, and the leaves fall, and the trails turn to mud, I can’t help but think of the next season to come.
Winters are long and harsh in our part of the world. Though I try not to get ahead of myself, it’s a fact: my days in the saddle are numbered. Melancholy sinks in.
But I’ll adapt. We all will. I’ll rely on routines and rituals to get me through to spring. Before long I’ll embrace eight months of training in the pool, the gym, the weight room—not that I ever left the water or gym, but balancing training with every other day saddle sessions in the mountains makes the pool and gym tolerable.
It could be a lot worse. If I can stay injury free and spondy (AS) doesn’t rear its ugly head, I’ll be alright, grateful that I can swim, lift, and spin each day. And I’ll dream of that first Southern Utah bike trip in March, the days when the local trails clear, the temperatures rise, and pedaling my favorite trail with my trail buddy (dog) as the sun rises and summer days stretch forth. For those of you feeling blue about autumn, you’re not alone. Wishing all of my northern friends a healthy transition to and through fall. WNBL, mwl