Spring Forward

I don’t know how the rest of you feel about the Fed’s decision to move up the spring forward date (perhaps, maybe, the thought “what *don’t* they have control over, anymore??” comes to mind…), but I LOVE it. I’ve never really care much for spring forward before, not that I’ve ever had a passionate opinion on the subject. In my mind it’s known only as the Sunday where I lose an hour of my day. And there’s not much I hate more than losing any part of a weekend (cold oatmeal and all-day wedgies are the only things that come to mind right off the bat). But this year, I’ve had a new experience. I love spring. And I loved springing forward earlier.

I wouldn’t say that spring is my favorite season (that honor is held by summer and followed closely by fall), but it is my most-looked-forward-to season. I don’t know if I technically have Seasonal Affective Disorder, but for the last 10 years or so, I’ve had a really hard time with winter. Once the holidays are over about the only thing I can find the energy to do is shower (mmmm, warm….) and watch TV (which does not require all that much extra energy). FOR THREE MONTHS. I barely do anything: enough laundry to get by, enough cleaning so that my mother won’t freak when she comes to visit, and enough socializing so that my friends don’t forget that I exist. But with the earlier spring forward this year coinciding with a weekend of 70 degree weather here, I immediately felt my spirits lift in such a way I haven’t felt (so immediately) before. And it didn’t take spending a week at the beach (although that did help put me in the mood).

That first Sunday I found myself already moving ahead with implementing my warm weather routine. Subconsciously suppertime changed from 6 to 8:30, I had the energy to do the dishes (wow!), I called people I hadn’t talked to since October, planned enough things to occupy myself until the end of the summer, and took up running. Yep, you heard me. All it took was for it to be light one extra hour in the evening, and I took up a new sport. I have no idea what’s come over me, but I’ve run all but about 3 days since then. I love SPRING me. She’s happier, has more energy, isn’t so rushed, and still manages to get to bed by 10.

I will offer this one piece of advice for those of you who are embracing your new spring selves: don’t skip lunch, go for a 4 mile run, then drink a margarita while you wait on supper. That’s the number one way to guarantee you’ll burn whatever you’re cooking, give up, and fall asleep on the couch. Before 8.