Equinox, schmequinox. It's cold outside.

Most people view Labor Day as the end of the summer. Or, as some TV newspeople would say, "The unofficial end of summer." Others put it at the Equinox on September 23 - or as some TV newspeople would say, "The official end of summer". The end of summer comes for me when the days grow too short to ride my bicycle after work and the early mornings grow chilly.

That would be today.

After the near-record heat we've had around here since ... oh ... July, we're now at the start of some sort of cooling trend. It will be near 40 degrees Saturday morning, and I prefer to be near my warm bed when that sort of thing is happening.

Mostly, it's because I don't have anything to wear when the temperatures go below 50 degrees. Of course, I refuse to ride when it's cold, so there's a perfectly valid reason why I don't have any cold weather gear. Is that one of those chicken/egg deals?

There are the hard core riders, who will ride right on through the winter in the early morning, when it's coldest. I see them going past my window. I wave and smile. They see it as a test, I suppose. People against the elements. "You can't tell me what to do, I'll just put on another layer of clothing."

I have a rather narrow range of temperatures at which I will engage in outdoor games. Mostly, it's above 55 and below 95. Outside of that range, I'm finding something indoors to do. Where's that spinning class? An indoor, stationary bike. My kinda fun.

That's strange because, I distinctly remember playing sandlot football in the dead of winter and sandlot baseball in the (dead?) of summer. We spent a lot of time on the sandlot. The point is, that somewhere along the way I pussied up. I can't go out when it's too cold. I can't go out when it's too hot. I figure, if I live another 25 years, I'll be limited to air-conditioned rooms at low humidity. I'm doomed.

I'll never get it back. No more February Saturday morning pick-up football games. I turn the heat up to watch them on TV now. In the summer, my perspiration issues are the stuff of legend. I'm not sure where that started, either. I don't remember sweating much as a kid.

For the next two weeks or so, the daytime temperatures will be smack in the middle of my comfort range. Ya hoo. It happens for two weeks in April, too. That's what I get. Four weeks of environmental happiness. 8 percent of my year, solid as a rock. The other 92 ...

It's a shame that the mornings have to be so cold and the sun leaves so soon, because I really hate being comfortable at work. It's such a waste of a good day.