This is my last post of 2022. A year-end wrap-up post, if you will. Almost all of it has to do with crawling out from the rock of depression I’ve been living under for the past couple of years. Read if you want, or don’t.
Archive | December, 2022
Stupidity & Dangerous Curves
Last week’s Winter Storm Elliot ended up being pretty standard stuff for my part of Michigan; however, the gusting 30+ MPH winds, my unwise decision to “hold off a bit longer” until I got the snow tires put back on the 2014 Ford Escape, and the county’s strange decision to forgo plowing or salting the roads meant that I missed two days of hiking that would have easily g0t me to my self-imposed 25-mile weekly hiking goal. Crap.
A Zone 0 Holiday
My family and I are about to spend the Christmas holiday in our own home for only the 2nd time in the past 12 years. The first time was in 2020 when the world was balls deep into the COVID-19 pandemic, so there was little to feel good about. This time it’s ongoing dog boarding issues have prevented us from traveling back to Western PA for the holiday, and if you know me, my distaste for holiday travel, and my love of routine, you know I’m pretty stoked about that.
Stomps, Logs, and Fat
As I start this post in the morning darkness of the winter solstice, I have just cut a large Yule Log (the reason for the season?), and I am eagerly awaiting today’s very limited appearance from the sun before heading into the woods to burn some incense and get freaky with a nymphomanic Yule Goddess in celebration of longer days returning.
Rewrites & Raveonettes
After early last week’s shin injury scare, I bounced back harder than a large rubber dong repeatedly bounced off the back of a skull and ended up with 28.23 miles on the week and 306.71 miles (now 316.05) hiked since the start of my 2022 Not Dead Yet Comeback Special on September 19th.
Wizards, Shins, & Courts
As I start this post in the pre-sunrise hours of Wednesday morning, I sit on 9.02 miles hiked so far this week and 287.50 miles since the start of the 2022 Not Dead Yet Comeback Special on September 19th.
Silence In a Forest
This blog, website, journal, whatever the fuck it is, is holding on like the last elastical strains of Moscato-flavored vomit off a drunk sorority girl’s chin; for that, I apologize.
In all honesty, I should have put this thing to bed years ago when I realized my love for cycling, especially racing, was evaporating. However, if I sat around thinking of all the things I should have or could have done with my life, I would be a depressed, 51-year-old fat man living in the middle of nowhere-ass Michigan with no real career, dreams, desires, passions, or lusts left in the tank. Um, OK, forget that.
With all that said, I begrudgingly continue on for some reason.