Issue #14: When did wintering become an elite sport?

I'm calling time on hygge.

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Ding dong, the witch is dead. January, the nation’s least favourite month, is over. And, I don’t know about you, but personally I couldn’t be happier about it. It’s not like I didn’t try. Truthfully, I had lofty ambitions for the beginning of winter:

• I read Wintering: The Power of Rest & Retreat in Difficult Times by Katherine May (more on this later)

• I tried and failed to be strict about bedtimes

• Floored by -4 temperatures, I took the mantra ‘There’s no bad weather, just bad clothing’ to its logical conclusion: extra-warm Uniqlo heat-tech; two jumpers; Sweaty Betty thermal leggings; thick jeans; gigantic puffer; hat; scarf n’ gloves; three pairs of socks

• I did Dry January – for a week. ‘Damp January’ thereafter

• I spent long stints in my yoga studio’s sauna, the room of semi-naked people as tightly-packed yet as silent as a London Underground carriage at rush hour