If you’ve talked with me in the last year and a half you’ve probably heard me pitch this idea that there are actually six seasons instead of four. This isn’t new! It comes from the writer, Kurt Vonnegut. March and April aren’t some bizarre combo of winter and spring. Instead, they make up unlocking, a season nestled between the slumber of winter and the renewal of spring. It’s a time when the world thaws, yawns, and stretches its limbs.

People once again line the river; reading, playing, and sunning themselves in questionable temperatures (including me). Mum celebrated her 59th birthday. Levi and I enjoyed our first hike of the year not decked out in cold weather gear. I'm living my best spa life with the addition of a new robe. The fam spent three weeks working on a Magic Puzzle™. Indoor cycling has me venturing into the pain cave while techno (the real stuff) pumps into my ears. Lunch gained a near daily side of black beans and avocado w/ lime and salt. It even warmed up enough for the first park workout of the year, although that 53 lb (24 kg) kettlebell was a literal pain to carry all the way there. And Centre Street Bridge is once again open to pedestrian traffic alongside Memorial Drive—I run that route as often as I can while we have it.

With unlocking behind us, “winter” has probably, hopefully, finally departed (or at least that’s what I’m telling myself as I look out the window at the last few snowflakes).