Something occurred to me on Friday night as I was taking my nightly walk that should have been obvious years ago.  You hear about how runners get a “runner’s high” after a certain amount of time where their body kicks the adrenaline into overdrive and a huge sense of accomplishment is supposedly surging through one’s brain.

After an above-average-temperature autumn, it finally started to get (relatively) cool down here.  Friday night was the first night it started to dip into the 30s and while I was walking, I noticed I was in a totally elated mood.  I had ingested no pills, drunk no alcohol, hadn’t stabbed anyone and watched the life drain out of their eyes so I couldn’t have been experiencing a “killer’s high”.  Then a lightbulb finally came on in my head; I get “high” when cold weather comes around.

As a kid, I never understood why people got so miserable when the weather started to get real cold.  To me, it meant snowstorms and being able to ice skate all day on the frozen canal behind our backyard in Detroit.  Maybe it’s a “man vs. nature” thing, but when the weather drops below freezing, I suddenly feel alive.  I can’t believe it took me this long to realize that my brain releases an abnormal amount of serotonin at a time when others usually are miserable.

Of course, the opposite effect takes hold on me when it starts to get warm.  Anything above 90 degrees and I get miserable and cranky (yes, more than normal, you smarmy fuckfaces) and lethargic.  But you drop that temperature to the point where I have to bundle up and all of a sudden I come alive.  If you ever want to catch me on an above-average happy day, chances are it’s in the winter time during a long cold snap.