Pearls of Wisdom: Wading through a winter weatherland

If April showers bring May flowers, what do February downpours bring?
As I slogged across campus this week, rivers streaming down my Goretex raincoat, the bottom six inches of my favorite jeans converted to five-pound ankle braces, feet soaked through my ancient Jack Purcells (I live off-campus and was born in 1982; don’t ask why I didn’t think to wear boots or trendier footwear), I was reminded of the famous adage: when the going gets wet, the wet get going.

And by going, I mean fantasizing about spring break, of course.

Yes, it’s a hard knock life we live here in Palo Alto. Two thirds of the academic year, we are forced to coast downhill to class, both ways, through the sunshine and dazzling blue sky. Then, just as we load up on coursework and our post-June options narrow, the weather gods decide to wreak havoc on our physical and mental health.

Forget Petri dishes and test tubes; college campuses and the students crammed in to their tight living quarters offer phenomenal research opportunities for exploring the transmittance of viral illness. Factor in the combination of near-constant moisture and sub-60 temperatures (bike, board, or segue, you’re going to be soaked and cold by the time you make it to the Quad’s covered walkways), and you end up with an epidemic that upstages the mono-sated weeks following Full Moon on the Quad. It’s a wonder the CDC hasn’t shut us down yet.

Even if you are well enough to leave your dorm room, the physical consequences of the inclement weather are impossible to ignore. Unlike our East Coast brethren, whose frosty weather comes with the exciting benefits of winter sports and unplanned vacation days, we get one memorable (or not-so-memorable, as the case may be) weekend in the overstuffed chalet of an unsuspecting Tahoe homeowner. For the rest of the season, Stanford sports enthusiasts must choose between hiking up and down the Bing Wing stairwells, lugging the aforementioned ankle-weights across campus, and sprinting to the MoonBean’s overhang to purchase the next hot beverage.

Speaking of athletic activity and our blizzard-blessed friends east of the Rockies, there is yet another arena in which we are decidedly worse off than they: biking through snow would be much easier. Snow doesn’t spray (although I bet the Texan from my freshman dorm thought it would; as the first of our two 40-person buses pulled in to the driveway of our 12-person ski cabin, Ms. Simpson was shocked to learn that snow does not fall in pre-formed balls).

As any Psych 1 student will confirm, however, the endorphin-crippling impact of shorter, darker days and inclement winter weather extends beyond physical health. Even the happiest of un-seasonally-affected Stanford ducklings face a host of emotional challenges over the course of these trying 10 weeks. Freshmen are no longer new (upsetting both themselves and their sketchy upper-class predators); sophomores have hit their infamous slump (and those that haven’t feel guilty for their inexplicable contentment); at least a third of the junior class is off gallivanting at the Bings’ expense, leaving abandoned friends and spurned non-foreign lovers behind; and seniors are perpetually behind in their theses (I feel you on that one).

To make matters worse, you’ve drained your residence of every last ounce of sexual tension and those once-intriguing/exciting/resume-building new extracurriculars you joined back in September have lost their shine (although the five active members continue to spam the list on a regular basis).

Of course, as with all mental health issues, some people deal with the depressing reality by refusing to acknowledge that it is, in fact, the dead of winter. Sporting flip-flops and oversize Chanel sunglasses, these students beg the professor to hold class outdoors even as the dark grey sky threatens to split open and drop buckets. Denial is not just a river in Egypt; in certain cases, it may also result in hypothermia.

All joking aside, though, there is at least one healthy response to the woebegone winter weather: embrace it. Perhaps with enough rain and a nice pair of rose-colored glasses, Lake Lag will appear half full instead of all mud. If not, try to content yourself with a swim in the only real body of water on campus, Avery Aquatic Center, and the knowledge that the warm weather will return in all its sun-drenched glory just in time for dead week.

Assuming she hasn’t caught a cold yet, Lisa Mendelman is out running in the rain. Email her at lisame@stanford.edu and she’ll respond as soon as her frostbitten fingers thaw.