The Subcutaneous Fat That Arrived with Winter

 As Japan marks Rittō—the first day of winter in the traditional 24 solar terms—the chill is settling in, and my fingers are starting to feel it. The season seems to have brought not only cold air, but also a little extra padding around my waist.

 

It’s already Rittō, the beginning of winter according to the traditional Japanese calendar.
My body seems to be adjusting to the colder temperatures, but my fingers still protest against the morning chill.

As the old saying goes, “In autumn, horses grow fat under the high sky.”
This year, after an exceptionally hot summer, the season shifted abruptly to autumn around the equinox. My appetite returned to normal—and perhaps a little beyond that—because my weight has crept up to my usual danger line of 78 kilograms.

Last year at this time, I was 75. That’s not a trivial difference.

I don’t feel particularly heavier, but when I tried on trousers from last winter, they were noticeably tighter. That was proof enough that my shape has changed.

It’s always difficult to control weight during this time of year. Left unchecked, I could easily hit 80 kilograms before I know it.

Perhaps my body is instinctively trying to store subcutaneous fat to prepare for winter, but I’m no bear.
Humans in the modern world have no need for such a biological reflex. I really should start cutting back on portions.

My height has also declined—from 178 centimeters in my youth to 176 now.
In theory, my body weight should also be two or three kilograms lighter than it used to be, but reality has gone in the opposite direction.

Shrinking in height means the cartilage between my vertebrae has thinned.
Humans have 24 vertebrae and 23 intervertebral discs; a two-centimeter reduction overall means each disc has compressed by about 0.8 millimeters on average.
Add in the natural wear and tear of the knees and other joints, and the extra weight only makes things worse.

In short, gaining weight with age is never a good idea.

My work schedule is hard to change, and meal times are not entirely under my control.
I make a point of taking the stairs, but beyond that I have few exercise habits.

Since I have Ann, my dog, perhaps the best I can do for now is to take her out for longer walks—and hope that both of us benefit from it.

She’ll enjoy it—and maybe I’ll get my waistline back.