With our short, dark days, it’s a no-brainer when we Mainers need to escape the winters and travel somewhere warm.

Our seasonal depression kicks in before the snow even touches the ground and we forget what it feels like to have the serotonin surge from the sun prickling our skin.

In theory, it always sounds splendid to me to run away from the cold and darkness and vacation in the sun. Isn’t that what we crave for four long months out of the year?

I hunger for my toes in the sand, a piña colada in hand, and the sound of waves crashing at a resort in the tropics. So, why don’t I like traveling outside of our harsh winters in Maine when I don’t even like the snow?

Because every time I do, I get deathly ill.

I spent my winter vacations growing up traveling between Maine and Florida to visit my grandparents. I spent the December breaks in college heading to Mexico with the girls to drink legally. And it always ends in the same way: sick as heck!

Dragging my poor body between the harsh coldness and delicious warmth sends it spiraling and confused and I always end up a few days after my vacation sick as a dog. And not just a slight cold, but ridiculously, uncomfortably ill. To the point where I almost forget the niceties of my trip and I’m just in turmoil over the outcome.

Apparently even by now, I have not trained my body to survive climate changes. Does this happen to you or am I weak and need to start counting my days because natural selection is going to wipe me out?

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