Winterizing Your Body A Midlife Reminder

Here in East Texas, winter has a way of humbling us. We prepare our homes. We drip the faucets, wrap the pipes, check the heater, and make sure the cars are ready. We do all of this because we know cold can do real damage if we ignore it.

But somehow, we forget to do the same for ourselves.

After four days iced in by Winter Storm Fern, I started noticing things. My joints felt stiffer than usual. My energy dipped earlier in the day. And my skin, my goodness, it felt tight, dry, and irritated almost overnight. The heater ran constantly. The air felt stripped of moisture. My hands looked older. My face felt uncomfortable in a way I had been brushing off for years.

It hit me that while I had winterized everything around me, I had not fully winterized my body.

Our bodies need seasonal care just as much as our homes do.

Winter pulls moisture from everything. Pipes freeze. Lips crack. Skin dries out faster than we realize, especially in midlife. What once bounced back easily now needs more intention. Winterizing your body includes caring for your skin like the protective barrier it is.

That looks like moisturizing more than you think you need to. Thicker creams instead of light lotions. Applying them while your skin is still damp. Paying attention to hands, elbows, legs, and your face when indoor heat runs nonstop. It also looks like hydration even when you are not thirsty, because dry air dehydrates us quietly.

Just like we insulate pipes, we have to insulate our skin.

Winterizing your body also means adjusting movement. Cold tightens muscles and stiffens joints. This is not the season for punishing workouts or pushing through pain. It is the season for gentle movement. Stretching in the morning. Walking the house. Rolling your shoulders while coffee brews. Letting movement warm you instead of drain you.

Food matters too. Winter asks for nourishment that satisfies and warms from the inside. Soups. Stews. Protein. Fiber. Enough salt to support tired bodies. Not restriction. Not guilt. Just care.

And then there is rest.

Winter is not the season for hustle. It is the season for maintenance. For checking in. For protecting what is vulnerable. For softer expectations, earlier nights, and listening sooner instead of later.

Dry, irritated skin is a signal. So are aches, fatigue, and low mood. When we ignore those signals, winter leaves a bigger mark than it needs to.

We do not shame ourselves when a pipe freezes. We respond. We fix it. We prepare better next time.

Our bodies deserve that same grace.

So if you are iced in, dried out, slowed down, or feeling winter settle into your bones and your skin, consider this your reminder. You are not failing.

You are adapting.

And adaptation is its own kind of strength.

With Love from Frozen Mabank,

Brandy