Climate change, Chaucer and the importance impeccable trainers


Every year, since I can’t remember when, I’ve made a pact with myself to lose that extra thickness around my middle.

Every year, I have failed and have, in fact, put more weight on.

That’s because my weight loss plan has been weather-dependent. All winter, I scheme and scheme, while ideas percolate in my head. I find myself fantasizing over Women’s Fitness, dreaming of one last glimpse of my rib cage.

When spring finally arrives, I begin to read Chaucer, clad in my brand-spanking new $135 Asics trainers.

Whan that Aprill, with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
Of which vertu engendred is the flour

Didn’t know I was a Chaucer geek, did ya?

I have romanticized the spring.

And every God damned year, I am disappointed.

Late winter is a dud, spring is even worse. Rain, snow, mud.

Crap, crap, crap.

Foiled again.

By the time the nice weather comes, it’s too friggin’ hot to do anything. You have to slather on suncreen, don a jaunty chapeau and bake like so much leek laden salmon on the barbie.

By this time, every year, I have all but have given up on my plan and start to make pies in the air conditioning.

And instead of hoofing it down the road, I spend my afternoons with Dr. Phil eating Skittles.

But not this year.

This year, I changed up the plan.

Just in the nick of time.

This spring was the worst I can remember in terms of rain and unseasonably cold weather. Once again, when we reached June, it became as steamy as a whorehouse outside. Even the dogs didn’t want to go out.

None of this affected me in any way.

That’s because I joined the gymnasty in March and have been going faithfully ever since. I don’t have to worry about the weather. I don’t care if it rains or snows because my nice $135 Asics still look brand-spanking — and isn’t that the most important point after all? Looking good before, during and after a workout?

It’s pretty clear that our unpredictable weather patterns are here to stay. I’ve been on this lovely planet for five and a half decades and I’ve never seen weather like this. I mean, since when do we all run for cover when there’s a thunderstorm in Canada?

I have come to the realization that I will forever more be an indoor girl, sweatin’ to the oldies on my IPod while cranking out thirty minutes on the elliptical. I’m sad about this to be frank. I’ve always loved being outside in the summer time, but now I do my outdoor time with a glass of wine after the sun goes down. Even then, it’s still scorching outside.

Oh well, my skin will thank me.

I’ve only recently and reluctantly given up the possibility of once more having a beautiful bronze tan. The days of Hart Tru tennis courts and tan line bragging rights are gone baby gone. I have finally made friends with SP 30 and its constant companion, Deep Woods Off! with Deet.

I understand in my head that this is a blessing, but it still feels wrong to look like Port Dalhousie white fish most of the summer.

It’s the price we pay for all those hair straightening aerosols, gas guzzling SUVs and our dependence on flatulent bovine.

Dealing with climate change requires a plan.

Not to mention pristine, impeccable silver trainers.

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