I finished up last week with 22.56 miles of hiking and missed my weekly goal by 2.44 miles. However, I finished the week with some strong lumbers and occasional running. Sadly, by Sunday, my right foot said, “piss off!” and I was hit with some raging plantar fasciitis.
Shit.
Over the last few months, I have been stalking a duck couple (Sid and Nancy) that I see swimming in the nearby river and adjacent swamp areas during my hikes. I got a few photos from distance along the way, but nothing great.
Wednesday’s hike was a wonderful 6-mile lumber with an average speed of 4 miles per hour; it was a great way to surpass the 800-mile mark in my ongoing journey by foot to find lost fitness and mental clarity.
So, close, yet so far away. Well, at least until Wednesday morning.
Another week of mind numbing existence in the books, as well as another week’s worth of woodsy miles. And I have nothing to say.
Ready to have your socks blown off with another volume of soiled randomness?
No?
Well, too bad.
Dear readers, this post contains a LOT of my personal opinions on where I am currently at with cycling. I do not intend to talk trash about the sport, make you feel bad for loving it, or any such thing. I have dedicated a huge part of my life to cycling, and I love it. It’s a classic case of “it’s not you, it’s me.”
— Management
