Cold

I see this as a symptom of my becoming an old man. For years, I have boasted of having been ‘immune’ to cold weather. I remember that back in 1997 or 1998, I was playing soccer on weeknights, right after work. I would get changed and go across a big park that separated our building from the gym. It was in the middle of the winter, with temperatures around 2ºC (and a lot of humidity), and I would be wearing just a short and a shirt. Everybody would say I was crazy, but I simply wasn’t feeling cold.

 

The same would happen at home. I would sleep with no pajamas, and only covered by a sheet, while Gaby was covered up to her ears. Even more, since her feet were always cold, she would put them on top of mine to warm them up. More even more :-), in spite of me sleeping in my underwear and without a blanket, I would sweat! Since Santi was the same as me, we concluded it was a ‘family’ thing, we just happened to have our thermostat at a different temperature than the rest.

 

Picture from RedhairRaye’s Flickr Photostream

 

Once we moved to Canada, my guidance for what to wear during the winter would come from Gaby’s face. All I had to do was to look at her face as I was about to leave, to know whether I had enough clothes or not. Because the thing is that with the only exception of my hands and sometimes my ears, I wouldn’t feel cold.

 

But that doesn’t happen anymore. This current winter I started to notice that if I didn’t put a blanket on top of me, I would feel cold and start to shiver. And suddenly my feet had the same temperature than a couple of icebergs. To tell the truth, with the low temperatures we had last week, I was cold as h*ll. And I wasn’t ready for that!

 

“It’s the time”, I said, trying to cheer myself up. But I know what I meant.

 

“It’s the time… that has passed since I have been born”.

 

 

Yo lo veo como un síntoma de vejez. Por años, yo me he jactado de ser ‘atérmico’; es como si el frío no me afectara. Recuerdo que allá por 1997, 1998, yo jugaba al futbol a la tardecita, después de trabajar. Me cambiaba y cruzaba caminando un amplio parque que separaba el edificio del gimnasio. Era pleno invierno, con temperaturas de 2ºC (y mucha humedad) y yo invariablemente estaba vestido con un short y una remera (playera). Todos me decían que estaba loco, yo simplemente no sentía frío.

 

Lo mismo pasaba en casa. En pleno invierno dormía sin pijamas y apenas tapado con una sábana, mientras que Gaby dormía tapada hasta las orejas. Es más, como ella tenía los pies fríos, los ponía sobre mis pies para calentarlos. Más aún, a pesar de que sólo dormía en ropa interior y sin taparme, transpiraba mientras dormía! Como Santi era igual que yo, pensamos que era una condición de familia, ambos teníamos el termostato a diferente temperatura que el resto.

 

Me on a –30ºC day in Ottawa. Note that I wear hats now!

Yo en un día con –30ºC en Ottawa. Nótese que ahora uso gorros!

 

Ya viviendo en Canadá, mi guía sobre la clase de abrigo que debía usar durante el invierno era la cara de Gaby. Me bastaba mirarla cuando estaba por salir para saber si tenía suficiente abrigo o no. Porque salvo por las manos y a veces las orejas, yo nunca sentía frío.

 

Pero ya no me pasa más eso. Este invierno comencé a notar que si no me tapaba bien en la cama, empezaba a temblar. Y de golpe mis pies tenían la temperatura de dos icebergs. A decir verdad, con las temperaturas bajas que hubo la semana pasada, me recontraca**é de frío. Y no estaba preparado para ello!

 

“Es el tiempo”, me dije a mi mismo tratando de consolarme. Pero sé que quise decir.

 

“Es el tiempo… que ha pasado desde que nací”.

 

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