I am quite used to dealing with large gaps for such things as my résumé, my memory, and the distance between pants buttons and their holes, but in my “fitness” calendar, not so much.
I know, the sentence above makes it sound like I am some whispy fitness junkie who has 2% body fat, runs like a gazelle, and eats like a bird. But as we all know, or should know, I fill my calendar with lumbers, snowshoes, hikes, walks, runs, and rides as much as I can to make up for the fact that I am a 53-year-old man who loves to cook, drink IPAs, and works like a dog just to limit my pounds overweight to 50 and to keep my mind centered and in the present rather than racing with self-loathing, doubt, depression, and anxiety.
With that said, seeing ONE lumber over nine days is less than OK with me, and my mind and body crave some normalcy and routine. So, as I type this stank word-smegma, my shoes, clothes, and camera gear are prepped and ready, and all that needs to be done is one final morning dump and the sun to rise.
And Then He Lumbered
Ma Nature got a surprise visit from her abusive ex, Jack Frost, and he conspired over the weekend to have us thinking spring had arrived on Friday and cursing our very existence by Sunday afternoon as the temps dropped like a rock and snowflakes once again fell on mid-Michigan, covering the ground and the deck chair that just 48 hours before I had sat in, trying to come down from the past week as the spring sun warmed my pizza-bloated face.
With that, I was back to winter clothing and GORTEX boots for Monday morning’s much-needed lumber. *sigh* More wintry kicks to mental junk were experienced despite knowing weather like this literally happens every spring.
Everything was covered in light snow, and Escape II was the only car in the lot when I pulled in. As I waited for my watch to make contact with the Garmin GPS Satellite of Love, I heard some geese honking in the river beyond the frozen cove. Then, as I stretched for a view of them, I noticed a bald eagle flying overhead in the bright blue sky. Seeing an eagle is always a nice way to start a lumber.
It felt so good to be out, crunching over the frozen ground, burning some calories, and finding some peace and solitude after a stressful and emotional week.
After so much time off from hiking this month, as I lumbered along, I did my best to let my senses catch up on the sights, smells, and sounds of the woods; crows squawking, geese honking, the echo of woodpeckers loudly pecking, blue jays bitching about something, the cold water of the river babbling over rocks, trees creaking, feet crunching over frozen mud, and the feeling of warm sunshine on aging skin made cold by the very un-Spring-like 18˚ morning air. It was just the mental enema my shit-clogged mind craved.
My legs also felt surprisingly snappy, and I stomped ouit a 6.20-mile lumber and finished feeling like I could have done even more.
During the hike, I also saw another eagle, an immature one this time, flying above the trees along the river. I tried to get a shot through the branches above but only got a blurry mess. Oh well, you know that they say, “You can’t spell crap amateur without I.S.U.C.K.”
I’m hoping to get through this week without any more family tragedies or lengthy car trips. I crave normalcy, routine, and miles in my feetz. I also crave Guinness, which I plan on enjoying guilt-free later today in honor of Monday St. Patrick’s Day. No, no, I have no Irish in me, but I have had some of me in some Irish, so it all works out, Even O’Steven.
Now, let’s “Split the G!” Cheers.
Later.