On Being Cold

Here’s something I was pondering while sweating my guts out in Puerto Rico a few weeks ago, and while freezing my face off in the 40 degree rain while hopping across the lava rocks somewhere in Iceland: why, in the end, it’s a much more enlightening thing to feel cold and to be out in the cold rather than to be basking in the warm sun. This isn’t some moral judgment I’m making, that tanning in the tropics is sinful and you should really learn how to build an igloo. Rather, that being cold, feeling the sting of freezing rain on your face, and wishing you had brought an extra sweater allows you to better comprehend and appreciate the utter joy and miracle of your existence. Let me explain:

The human body is a highly evolved system, so highly evolved that today, in order to hop around on lava fields or trudge your way to the beach, all you need to give your body in return are a few delicious meals and a few gulps of water a day. If you go out and party, have a few drinks, and jump around and make a fool of yourself until 6am, your body will clean out your blood and heal your muscles, up to a certain point. In return, your body will ask for ten or so hours of awesome, post-party sleep.

So, in exchange for life’s basic functionality, all we need are food and sleep. And I daresay we’ve made quite and art and pleasure out of these.

When you’re cold, you can feel the tips of your nose, cheeks, fingertips, and toes going numb as your body pulls more blood and heat toward its core. At this core is your heart, the machine that supplies oxygen, heat, and energy to all the other organs, especially the brain, which in turn supplies coordination and control. These keep functioning, as long as you give them the aforementioned fuel, and as long as you keep them within certain operating temperatures.

However, let’s say you’re in the tropics. There, you could even be dead, and you’d still be lying there in the sun at about the same temperature, getting a nice tan. You’d probably be getting the same amount of work or exercise done too, and the only noticeable difference would be your decreased ability to order piña coladas.

Strange as it sounds, I actually started laughing as the wind plastered ice pellets in my face and my socks filled up with water. I was turning my attention inward to the completely fantastic machines operating inside me, keeping my innards at a balmy 98.6 degrees, and moving my lungs and legs in an efficient rhythm. Maybe even more special was the fact that, despite all this, I could see and remember the incredible landscape, hear the waterfall roaring in the distance, and smell the mix of sulfur and rain.

So, next time it’s cold outside, go out and walk around until your teeth are chattering, and be thankful for it. Then go inside, have a mug of hot chocolate and a double cheeseburger, and then take a nap.

Beautiful.