Somehow it’s Wednesday, and I’m trying to figure out what the hell I’ve done since my last unneeded post. Oh yeah, nothing. Well, at least nothing all that physical, that’s for sure.
To be honest, I have been struggling to find the want to leave the house for anything other than food and beer over the last couple of months, but in recent days the combination of warmer temps (hello 45˚, yo!!), sun, and an appointment with Mindbender II (The Wrath of Kahn) to change some shit up has helped to point me in the direction of unfucking myself and mild—but acceptable—increased motivation and energy levels.
While it is WAY too early to know if I am indeed heading in the right direction, I stumbled upon some motivation today when I was goofing around the house with an old, used Nikon 50mm lens that I have lying around.
The driveway and garage are void of ice for the first time in weeks, except for this cling-on.
Most of my photography is done while hiking, riding, or along the football pitch, so I am very comfortable with zooms, and when I do want to use a smaller, faster lens, I often opt for my Sigma 17-70mm f/2.8 because I find it sharp and fun as fuck, even if I have to use it in DX mode. (The Sigma is my fave lens for documenting family, birthdays, etc., and I would use it even more if I still had a DX camera. Who needs megabytes!! LOL!). The Nikkor “Nifty 50” f/1.8 is also a sweet little lens, but its age won’t allow it to autofocus on my Z6, and I find the Z6 manual focus peaking crap. Since B has been using my Z6 to film a video for a contest his teacher told him about, I charged up my old D610, strapped on the 50, and started goofing off with it taking pics of the dogs as they slept. Well, Lola slept; I think Jake was planning her murder.
Mush-mush-mush…
With a small, booger-sized amount of motivation found in my head full of mush, I took the D610 for a walk at the Sylvan Solace Preserve.
The last time I walked, I used snowshoes but forgot sunglasses and burned my retinas out. Today I took sunglasses (retinas unburned) but didn’t wear snowshoes. GODDAMN!!
The first part of the trail was fine, but by the time I got into the good parts, the snow became like walking on fluffy silk pillows while wearing fur socks—Melty, slippy, mushy, deep in parts.
I expected more of this; got less.
Despite the poor snow conditions and a lack of snowshoes on my feet, it was great to be outside. And even though the snow wasn’t easy to walk in, the extra effort put forth did wonders to get a sweat on and work some muscles I haven’t used in a while. Well, at least not since the last time I walked on silk pillows wearing my sexiest furs socks.
I took a few pics, then headed home to eat a 260 calorie chicken taco, and the spilt 260 calorie taco guts that fell out of said taco.
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Lola back to sleeping two hours after getting up.
This little photo excursion was nice, but my mind and body are craving to get back to the way things were a year ago when I was seven months into the most consistent strength training I’ve done in nearly 15 years. I told myself I wouldn’t go back to the gym until I was able to get a COVID vaccine or things got better, but I’m about ready to cave. We’re just so fucking close, I don’t want to be the guy that couldn’t wait and get sick as fuck come spring. I guess I can just go back to my prison yard strength training again. Fucking, sigh.
Jake back to plotting Lola’s murder.
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Nah, he wouldn’t do that.
Later.