Tag Archives | journal-ish
Winter Lumbers and Fails
What’s Old is New Again
Do you smell that? It smells like hyperbole.
– Me
I’m no good at this.
While you may think that I’m about to say I’m no good at this whole “life” thing, and I tend to believe I’m not, I’m actually referring to multiple days off from outdoor activities. In post-blizzard Michigan, during the longest, darkest, coldest, rope-to -the-fucking-attic month of the year.
It’s been four days since I was last in the woods, and it might as well be 4 months. While I know it’s near impossible, I feel like I’ve lost every shred of fitness I gained over the last 16+ months; my Instagram feed is set to be bombarded with ads for big and tall stores (again), and the brain that I have worked so hard to semi-salvage from a sticky web of depression and life-long self-loathing is set to go into shut-down mode and return me to the fart scented sheets of The Bed of Torment.
Cutting It Short, Forced Time Off
What a crazy week! As mentioned in my previous hard-to-read Soiled mega post, the week started with a 7-mile hike on Monday, followed by a snowy 5+ mile hike on Tuesday, then as more snow arrived, morphed into slow 4+ mile snowshoe stomps on Wednesday and Thursday.
Some Miles & First Stomps
Part I, Tuesday, 6:17 AM
I was up at 6 AM on Tuesday to tend to the dogs, drink giant mugs of coffee, make food, and slack around the internet in the dark, waiting for dark grey daylight sometime after 8 AM and a chance to get some miles in my feet.
Post-Holiday Normalcy
There is nothing quite as satisfying as waking up in the morning, coming downstairs, and not seeing one shred of proof that Christmas ever happened.
I sort of, kind of jest, of course. Despite my loathing of the Christmas season and 97.4% of everything it stands for, I had a damn good holiday, and I have to give a big thanks to Wifey and B for making this holiday perfect by just being their easy-going, lovable selves.
Holiday Week Mush Brain Spew
This is a long one, people. No reason, really; I just found myself wasting time every so often this week and writing down random shit.
6:05 AM on Christmas Morning, and I was up as usual.
No, I wasn’t waiting to gleefully rip through a giant pile of presents (although there was one with my name on that I had my eye on); I was up waiting for the freaking sun to start thinking about rising so I could squeeze in a few miles before we did the version of Christmas Morning you do when it’s just a couple and their 19-year-old son who is now thankfully way more into sleep than opening holiday presents.
Sadly, the sun wouldn’t be fully up until after 8, so that meant I had nothing to do but tend to the dogs, drink coffee, and look at the ever-declining interwebs until I had enough light for woodsy lumbering without a headlamp.
Early Weeks & Dancers
There is no use typing the first bit; it’s always the same: Wake up, tend to the dogs, coffee up, breakie a burrito, dump out, and get lumbering before the unfortunate act of adulting commences.
Three Days, One Year, Three Songs
Oh, Monday, there is no
escaping your misery. – Me
After a pretty good, not bad, OK sort of weekend, I woke up in a funk on Monday. A funk that got increasingly funkier with a dark morning of blowing wet snow.
So as not to be stymied by my normal Monday funkiness, I threw a lackluster breakfast burrito down my throat, took care of business (that means pooping, not real money-making business), and headed out for a 7+ mile lumber through the woods.
Shoes & Rose Gardens
This week has been a blur of final fall leaf cleanups, getting the septic tank its quinquennial suck-out, dealing with an unrelated plumbing issue in the basement shitter, and dealing with Lola (the dog), who, after four years, has decided that shitting on the floor of my office is easier than going outside.