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I have come to regard November as the older, harder man's October. I appreciate the early darkness and cooler temperatures. It puts my mind in a different place than October. It is a month for a quieter, slightly more subdued celebration of summer's death as winter tightens its grip.
People ask me what I do in winter when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.
Whenever I am not traveling during the winter, I am pushing hard in the gym. Even when I am traveling, I try to fit a workout in at the hotel. And if the hotel doesn't have a gym? You can get a good workout in your room with an exercise band and some imagination.
When all the world appears to be in a tumult, and nature itself is feeling the assault of climate change, the seasons retain their essential rhythm. Yes, fall gives us a premonition of winter, but then, winter, will be forced to relent, once again, to the new beginnings of soft greens, longer light, and the sweet air of spring.
As winter approaches - bringing cold weather and family drama - we crave page-turners, books made for long nights and tryptophan-induced sloth.