I wish I had something of interest to blather on about, but alas, things have been “samey” here the past few days years: get up in the dark, feed Lola, coffee up, dump out, layer up, drive to the trails, lumber for 4 miles in the snow, have it feel like 10, go home, wish for spring, make a cappuccino, shower, get my shit done, and then end the day watching football. Followed by making food, having a beer, going to bed, and doing it all again the next day.
On the one hand, that’s a pretty good day; on the other hand, it’s a prime example of trying to make the best out of the long, cold, dark month of January. It’s survival mode, with one eye on spring and the other on the dismal weather forecast.
As expected, I’ve once again invoked the Winter Contingency Act1, created by F.D.R. over 80 years ago, with hopes of scaling back wintertime expectations and avoiding burnout. And even with the W.C.A. in effect, it’s been a struggle. But I’m doing it, gahdamnit!!
I’ve seen little to no other humans out on the trails, but as I was finishing up the last few hundred yards of Wednesday morning’s lumber, a woman, roughly in her 60s, was coming towards me on cross-country skis. The trails are currently ungroomed and not in that good of shape, but she was beaming as she approached me and loudly proclaimed, “THIS IS MY FIRST TIME ON SKIS THIS WINTER, AND IT’S AMAZING!!!! WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAY!!” I couldn’t help but smile and told her to have a great time and enjoy it. She had an infectious, unbridled joy that, admittedly, I’ve rarely, if ever, felt without the aid of drugs or alcohol. Ski on, lady!
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I’ve been without my zoom lens for a couple hikes now and haven’t seen much to make me regret not having it. Until Thursday, when I saw an amazing bald eagle in full flight cruising down the river valley near the campground, followed a short time later by a deer poking its head up over a snow embankment to investigate as I approached. Both would have made great photos IF I would have had my telephoto lens. Oh well, I have the memory.
In more of the same Cat 5 Cooking news, I finally finished that vat of rice and beans I made on Tuesday. I think I used it for four or five different meals, and today finished it off by adding some leftover chicken thighs I had in the fridge from last night. Even Lola wanted some, but I don’t need a dog that eats Mexican food. Actually, I don’t need a dog that SHITS Mexican food.
I only need a few miles to meet my W.C.A. 20-mile goal for the week, and then I hope to not have to go out in the cold for anything.
Later.
- The W.C.A. authorizes individuals such as myself to decrease their weekly total mileage goals from 25 to 20 with little to no cost to American taxpayers while allowing outdoor fitness enthusiasts a safe space to ward off depression, negative self-talk, body dysmorphia, and decreased motivation. To be clear, this is in no way meant to be a long-term program; it’s more of a bridge to help individuals make it through psycho-winters with their fitness goals intact and without the aid of treadmills or gyms. Without the W.C.A., I would be lost.