On being … out of practice

By Ingrid Sapona 

One of the things I’ve been thinking about this week is the idea that something that was second nature can be hard to get back to if you’ve been away. As I’m sure you’ll realize in short order, one of the things I’m referring to is getting back to writing this column. 

Being surprised at being out of practice came to mind the other day on a walk. During Covid, when everything – including the gym in my condo – was closed, I got in the habit of taking long walks. (Like many, I bought into the 10,000 steps idea.) I’ve continued with them and I especially like early morning walks because that means that by 9 or 9:30, I feel I’ve accomplished something for the day. 

The other morning the sky was blue, the sidewalks looked dry, and Google told me the temperature was something like 22℉. Perfect, I thought, as I hit play on the audiobook on my phone and slipped it into my jacket pocket. Heading out the door, the nip in the air made me pull my zipper up as far as it would go and tuck my gloves into my sleeves. I was engrossed in the story I was listening to but about 5 minutes into the walk I thought, “Holy … it’s cold out here”! As is my usual, I didn’t have a hat or scarf with me and my jacket, though down, was light and short. I quickly realized it was the wind that I hadn’t accounted for. Though I wasn’t that far from home, I wasn’t about to turn around. I told myself that it was probably just a wind tunnel effect and that as soon as I turned the corner, it would be better. 

The wind never died and it was a darned cold walk. When I got home, I had a cup of tea and chided myself for forgetting what winter is like. A good reminder to check the wind chill, not just the temperature! A couple days later it was snowing and I had to go out. As I was getting ready, I realized I was a bit nervous, wondering if I had forgotten how to drive in snow. I’m relieved to report that I didn’t re-live the spin-out I did during my first Buffalo blizzard when I was 17 years old! So, I think I’ve now reacquainted myself with what it takes to get through winter in a northern clime. 

As far as getting back into writing the column after a lovely holiday where the worries of the world seemed far away, I truly am at a loss. Though I do comment on world events from time-to-time, On being… it’s not meant to be about politics. And yet, I feel so preoccupied with worry and fear about what’s going on, I find there’s little else on my mind. And based on conversations with friends and acquaintances, it seems I’m not alone. 

It's also true that I can’t bring myself to write about what’s unfolding as a result of Trump’s re-election because I fear I have a more negative outlook than many. I don’t have a reserve of optimism, either deep or shallow. (Yes, there’s always the judiciary… but what happens when court orders are ignored?) To the extent any readers feel democracy will win out, all I can say is I have no deeper hope than that you – and Martin Luther King – are right about the arc of the moral universe and the way it bends. 

Hopefully in the coming few weeks I’ll return to reflecting on more personal things and I’ll be able to write a proper On being… In the meanwhile, check the wind chill before you go out, and dress appropriately. 

© 2025 Ingrid Sapona