I Used To Go Outside

That title is misleading. Sorry.

It’s been four days since I did an outdoor activity, it seems I will now only do a physical activity if the temp is 69˚ and there is wall to wall carpeting beneath me. That’s not really true, but it’s been true the past few days.

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So it Begins

2018 has arrived. Great.

I like to believe that a new year is a catalyst for change, but I am a realist (that’s code for pessimist) and greet the new year with as much enthusiasm as getting French kissed by your great aunt (the one with the perfume that smells like Febreze, sagging bosoms, and a beard).

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Peace

Happy Holidays, be back with more of this digital dross in the coming days.

Later.

Tops

The dump of snow we got last week, and all the potential outdoor fun that came with it, has turned to a sloppy mess. Warm temps and rain followed by falling temps have made things pretty useless. If the Fatterson was back I could probably get it out on the frozen slush and mess of the dirt roads, but since it’s waiting on a chain ring I am left to activities such as riding the trainer, “running” on the treadmill, lifting heavy things for no reason, and competitive flatulence. That means nothing to blog about or take photos of.

Since we’re almost done with this fucking fuck hole of a horrible year I figured I would give some of my top highlights and low light, digs and not digs of the year.

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Not So Fat On Ice

The week that was, er, wasn’t. There was very little riding over the last six days. There were a few trips down to the Not-So-Stankment to climb on the treadmill (including one five-mile walk, run, lumber-fest) and one trainer ride that lasted roughly 5 minutes before I said “fuck it” and quit.

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Chunky Times & Heresies

Chunky. No, not my muffin topped mid-drift, and no, not the sodium-heavy soups found in your grocery store. Chunky as in the consistency of the dirt that I would find my tires rambling over—and seemingly before me in every direction—on Wednesday’s ride.

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