Show Up, Even When It's Dark

Winter in the Highlands of Scotland can hit you like you’ve just slammed on your brakes mid-descent: one moment you’re riding full speed through endless daylight, the next you’re airborne, hurtling into the long, dark, cold months.

There’s suddenly a need to find a new balance, to manage that tussle between leaning into some deep rest while not losing the joy and wild fun the season can bring

I think Wintering Well is made up of three key components: Community to lift me, kit to prepare me, and routine to steady me.

Community

Do you ever find that the world is quick to tell you you’re MAD for heading out at night, or in that weather?But actually finding a few other maddies who choose to show up in the cold, dark evenings or ridiculously early mornings suddenly makes winter feel full of possibilities.

Not only does community hold you accountable for actually turning up, but with just a tiny bit of motivation (basically just leaving the house), your cup is soon overflowing with spills, thrills and belly laughs.

And it can come in many forms, this community. You might have pals who live close by and like the silliness too-they just need a wee nudge to come out. Or it might be groups or clubs full of people you don't yet know (I know, scary… but sooo worth it). And if all that fails and there’s nothing around you? Start your own thing.

I recently went hiking with a Strong Mums group that began with new mum Hannah posting on Facebook looking for other mums who wanted to go on short hikes with their babies. The group is now bustling with happy, fit friendships — all because one person said, “Anyone else fancy this?”

Kit & Bits Full disclosure - this is the thing I struggle with the most. I’ve got all the energy in the world to make things happen, but preparing for them? That’s definitely where I could make the biggest gains.

So this is my November To Do list. The stuff that in theory should make everything easier, smoother, and less of a faff. The aim is to glide through the season like an organised goddess instead of a gremlin rooting around for one dry glove at 6am.

Make a space

A proper winter base-camp corner. Nothing fancy, just somewhere all the chaos lives so the rest of your house doesn’t have to. A spot for bike washing, cleaning, tinkering, drying the clothes that never really get put away, and charging lights and GPS on repeat.

And this year… a turbo station. I know -yuk!! I must be getting old! I’ve finally accepted it might actually be a smart winter move to minimise faff and all the reasons not to train.

Do a kit audit

Before buying anything, do a proper rummage. What needs stitching? Patching?Reproofing? (In fact, just re-proof it anyway!) What’s quietly disintegrating in the kit drawer? Are your lights holding charge? Where is that helmet mount?

Replacements can be spendy - but they don't need to be. Up here in the Highlands we’ve got ÀBAN Outdoor and Backcountry Scot, a total treasure troves for second-hand outdoor gear.

If you’re near an Alpkit store, even better. They fixkit! Patches, stitching, zips, repairs. A quick winter upgrade for a twenty-quid fix and a blast of waterproofing spray.

Routine

If community keeps you sane and kit keeps you dry, then routine is what keeps the whole winter from unravelling. Not a rigid, military-style schedule, just a bit of shape. A rhythm. Something that stops you slamming from summer chaos straight into winter darkness mode.

For me, it’s all about anchoring a few simple things each week:

One thing with pals. 
Something that gets you out the door because other people will notice if you don’t show up.

One thing that’s just for you. 
A solo run, a night ride, a dip, a headtorch walk, something that clears your head without needing anyone else’s energy.

One proper rest/family day. 
Not a pretend one. Nice food, a good book, sauna, hot chocolates, good chat and absolutely no guilt.

Mini Winter Missions

And then there are the mini winter missions, the fun stuff that gives the month a spark. I set tiny goals like catching a sunset, spotting the full moon rise, or getting outside for the first frosty morning. It becomes less about the activity and more about noticing the magic tucked into the dark months.

Routine, for me, isn’t about discipline, it’s about keeping the momentum gentle but constant.