The cold is not immediately obvious inside the down sleeping bag but as soon as I lift the head, the intensity continuously rises as if it was waking up as well. The sleeping bag is cluttered with gear and clothes that are not supposed to freeze. It takes a moment to free myself from the carefully arranged chaos. The alarm has not gone off yet but a sense of suspense has taken over. 
Even before putting on more clothes, I impatiently unzip the tent flaps. The weather seems okay, not great, a mild flurry of snow, but good enough. The cold forcefully reminds me to turn back inside and put on something warmer. Not long till I’m sitting with my breakfast illuminated by my headlamp. The gear is packed, the shoes are tied. A moment to reflect. It’s cold, dark, in the middle of the night. I’m eating but I’m not hungry, my stomach seems confused. I’m thinking about other people in their warm beds, or watching a late-night movie. Why am I here? The question is neutral, not a complaint. I leave the tent with neither answer nor hesitation – perfectly content, ready for another adventure.