Just to be clear, while I appreciate the admiration, it's not a case of wimpiness vs HTFU. I'm not that special.

I'm just an old guy who likes to ride his bike. I'm in it for the joy. Yes, sometimes the challenges sweeten the deal a bit, but the bottom line is that my commutes are the best two times of my day.

Why would I want to give that up?

It simply became a matter of figuring out what I have to do to keep that twice daily (take only as directed) jolt of joy, rather than give in to seasonal depression.

As a bonus, I don't have to re-train from zero in the spring. That, in effect, is wimping out. I don't think I could put up with all the pain of starting all over again from zero every March.

Anyway, yes, that first winter I was horribly, unbelieveably cold while I figured out what works for me and what doesn't. Mainly it was a case of discovering what doesn't.

These days, I have what works nailed. A quick look out the window, and confirmation from one of the weather web sites, and I can put together the right clothes, pick the right bike, choose the best route and leaving time, and off I go, happy as a clam. I still surprise myself at this. All week I carried extra clothes and gloves in the pannier. Basically I took my wardrobe for a ride. Unnecessarily.

But all these years later, that first step outside, and the first five minutes of the ride, I'm still cold. I've just learned that it doesn't last. (There's a reason why they call it "warm-up".) By ten minutes I'm warming up, somewhere between 15 and 20 I'm unzipping a bit. So I guess I do tough it out, but just the first five minutes.

As for conditions with the bike, economically and storage-wise, I have to make what I have work. There are days when 35mm studded tires are less than ideal. Brown sugar on top of hardpack is the worst. That's what I had both ways, all three workdays this week. I just drop to the small ring and big cog, shift my weight far back on the saddle, and pick my way through as the bike shifts unpredictably beneath me. My average speeds were in the single-digits this week.

Rather than become scared the first time I encountered this, I decided to learn how to deal with it.

It *is* a decision. You either decide to give in to fear, or you decide to find out how to make it work.

I simply decided in the other direction than most. I viewed it as an opportunity to improve my bike-handling skills. This week, I *almost* had to "dab" once. So there's still room for improvement.

Which gives me a goal to work towards while I enjoy the ride.