After a few days spent with my slack turned blissfully up to 11, I woke up Monday morning with not one ounce of desire to lumber on what were either going to be extremely slushy trails or extremely icy trails. Either way, I knew I didn’t have the brain power to deal, so I didn’t. Giving up is so easy, I really should get back into the routine.

Fast forward to Tuesday morning…

I woke up Tuesday morning with not one ounce of desire to lumber on what were either going to be extremely slushy trails or extremely icy trails. Either way, I knew I didn’t have the brain power to deal. But I knew if I didn’t add some fitness into my Fat and Fit lifestyle, I’d just be fat. And the fit part, or at least the illusion of being fit, is what keeps me out of The Bed of Torment.

So, I got my shit together and got out for a lumber just after sunrise. Not as easy as giving up, but admittedly, it comes with way less guilt and self-loathing. OK, way less guilt.

And as expected, the trails were not in good shape, and were 80% solid, pockmarked ice, 15% packed snow, and 5% bare dirt. Truthfully, as long as I have my microspikes, I’ll take the solid ice over messy slush anyday! Still, it was a bitter pill to swallow given that most of the snow outside of the woods is nearly gone.

With the loud clackity-clack of my spikes on ice scaring nearly every critter in the county, I did’t have a ton of photo opportunities, but I managed to find a deer, and another nut-hoggin’ squirrel to practice dialing in some new camera gear I’m trying out.

With the ice, the slow pace, and the lack of critters, I only did 4.58 miles, but I was proud of kicking my ass out the door, when I would have rather gone back to bed for the next two weeks to six years. Or spring, either way.

Later.