Winter weather can bring many scenes to mind: cuddling under a blanket, drinking hot chocolate (with marshmallows), sledding down hills, building snowmen.

Except for the fact that only three of that list appeal to me in the slightest and only half are things I’d willingly participate in, because outdoor winter activities are the bane of my life. They unite three of my least favorite states: cold, wet and physical exertion.

Sure, you can bundle up within an inch of your life, but at that point you either can’t move or somewhere on your body you’ve accidentally left half a millimeter of skin exposed. This brief spot of skin provides a window of opportunity for the ice to impose upon your being and take over your soul.

Even two snowflakes can slip past what you believe to be impenetrable barriers of winter attire, melt against your skin and send icy shots up your limbs. It doesn’t end there, though; once even the smallest bit of snow has touched you, the parasite that is ice will not stop until it somehow has found every gap in your clothing and frozen your body. There’s no way to see it coming and, once it’s begun, there’s no way to stop it.

This attack from the solid water leech can be mostly avoided with a harmless daytime activity like snowman construction, but the moment you get onto the ground to sled down a hill is the moment you sacrifice your body to Elsa.

Sledding not only encourages snow to get in your clothing but it accelerates the process. Rapid movement down a snow-covered hill stuffs the icy clumps into every nook and cranny of your being. That’s not the only reason I avoid sledding, though.

Picture this: you’re at the top of the hill, preparing your sled. First, you have to set yourself to either carve your own path (a totally unpredictable situation) or you follow a path already carved and hope you don’t skid off into oblivion. Thus begins the five minute process of setting yourself in the sled. After finally choosing your position (running start? on your stomach? seated? with a friend?) you either push yourself or are pushed and you’re off!

Fifteen seconds later it’s over and you have to trudge back up the hill, making sure to walk around the entire expanse of sledding ground as to not mess up the paths with your plundering footsteps.

Some may thinking putting entirely too much effort is worth the brief thrill, but if I’m going to freeze to death it may as well be for something fun.

Next time there’s a snow day, you won’t have to look far to find me. I’ll be warm, cuddling, sipping hot tea–inside.