Now that it’s Oct. 1, along with many others I know, I will be participating in an unofficial fall game that once seemed so twisted and unnecessary to me when we moved to New England eight years ago.

This extreme sport, if you will, involves waiting until the last possible moment to turn on the furnace and avoiding one more month of heating costs. Because once you go there, once you break the seal and turn on the heat, it’s hard to go back until the snow melts in April (or May).

I still remember the first time I heard about the idea of living without heat for as long as possible. My new next-door neighbor had come over for an October dinner wrapped in a scarf and armed with mittens. “This year, I’m going to see if I can make it all the way into November without turning on the heater,” she said.

Meanwhile, my furnace had been running since the day we unpacked the moving boxes in late August. If that seems crazy to you, consider that we had just moved to Maine from Florida, where the “feels like” temperature was usually in the 100s.

My middle son quickly made a name for himself in our new city by wearing wool socks and gloves to his soccer practices. We were frozen. And although I was terrified of the furnace, spread out and hissing like a dragon in the middle of our new basement, I quickly learned to love the dry, musty smell of it kicking on and seeping through the vents.

“That’s the smell of money flying out of your wallet,” people told me.

Now I know what they mean. Heating bills hurt. They are a gut punch right in the middle of the holiday season, and they drag on far into spring. The more you can avoid them on either end — fall or spring — the better.

But it’s not always easy to convince other people in the house to play along. Last year, I heard the furnace kick on in September, and I lost my mind. Down the stairs I ran yelling, “Who did that? Who turned it on? It’s only 60 degrees out there, people!”

The guilty party: my husband, Dustin.

So this year, I’ve tried to get everyone onboard with me. Here are the arguments I’ve found to be most effective. I share them with you now in case you would also like to not pay for heat when you don’t have to.

• 60 degrees in October and 60 degrees in April are the same thing (for the most part)

When the temperature hits 60 degrees in April, everyone cheers. People pull out their shorts, and, sadly, too many also shed their shirts. Sixty degrees in April is bona fide warm weather.

When the mercury drops to 60 in October, however, everyone loses it.

“We’re freezing,” they say. “Where’s the heat?”

And no one wants to wear their shorts — unless they are teenage boys. Teenage boys seem to never mind wearing shorts.

But 60 degrees then and 60 degrees now is basically the same thing, minus the whole there’s-more-sun-in-April part. Think warm and you will be warm.

• There is no bad weather, just bad clothing

Have you ever noticed that the people who complain the loudest about being cold are also the ones still sleeping in their summer pajamas? They come into the kitchen wearing lightweight shorts and an undershirt while they clutch their arms and say they were frozen all night as they slept.

This is what flannel pajamas are for.

We don’t necessarily have to turn on the heat in early October, but we do have to start dressing like winter is coming. Please, this is not the time to go shirtless.

• It’s always colder outside

It takes awhile for a well-insulated house to match the outside temperature. If someone has been inside all morning watching football on Sunday, and then that someone complains that it is cold, invite him to go outside and feel how much cooler it is there. Afterward, coming back into the warm(ish) house will feel great.

It’s a game. We like to win games.

When all else was failing this fall, I tapped into everyone’s competitive spirit.

Me: I want to save on heating costs this year, so let’s not turn on the heat until we absolutely have to.

Them: Whine, whine, whine, whine.

Me: I mean, our neighbor didn’t turn on her heat until Oct. 31!

Them: Wait, when did we turn on ours?

Me: September!

Them: Oh, we can totally beat her.

• Just wait five minutes

And of course, as a last resort, you can always tell people that old cliche about the weather, which also holds true in older, drafty houses: If you don’t like the temperature, just wait five minutes.