The cold weather is finally upon us.

Temperatures are dropping, the heaters will come on and the hot chocolate and apple cider will flow. I will be able to partake of my favorite herb tea, Bengal Spice, and enjoy its warming flavor in the comfort of my recliner.

It also means I’ll be bundling up in turtle necks, sweaters and heavy coats to ward off the cold.

Over the past few years, winter has been a reminder that I’m getting older and the resistance I once had to the cold is slowly going away. There was a time when I would walk outside in 30- and 20-degree weather in shirtsleeves, or a sweater, or maybe a light jacket. The winds of November and December rarely bothered me. I could sit in an open football stadium in cold, windy weather that would occasionally hit Tiger Stadium in mid- to late November and never feel it (and yes, I was sober).

Now, I throw on a medium weight jacket in 50- to 40-degree weather. I find it hard to stay warm in my home. Instead of wearing shorts around the house, I wear sweat pants and socks. I walk outside to do something and I’m dressed like an Eskimo.

I can tell when the weather’s going to change because a certain joint begins hurting. I have bursitis in my left shoulder, and when the temps begin dropping, it begins to hurt right in the center of the joint. My knees and hips begin to crack, and give me sharp pains when I move.

Is that what people mean when they say they’re in the “winter of their years?” I want to go back to summer.

When I was young and foolish, no one told me my body would eventually be getting its revenge for all the crazy things I did during my elementary and high school years and as a young reporter trying to get that fascinating story or that once in a lifetime photo that meant climbing a scaffolding and balancing precariously on a couple of narrow boards. Or playing in a pickup football game in college and trying to imitate Herb Adderly, the great Green Bay defensive back, and wind up tearing up your ankle.

That injury has plagued me throughout my life, culminating in my breaking it in 2014. That joint got its ultimate revenge, because that last ankle injury put me in a boot for a month, and knocked out any plans I had to take up tennis or racquet ball again.

The rest of my body, while getting its revenge, has been kinder, issuing only minor aches and pains to deal with.

But you know, I’m going to change that. I’m going to try and regain some of that youth by doing what I should have done all along, by diet and exercise.

But after Christmas.

I don’t want to miss any of the holiday goodies.
John Surratt is a staff writer at The Vicksburg Post. You may reach him at john.surratt@vicksburgpost.com.