For the first time in my life, I found myself in Manistee, Michigan, for a reason other than riding my bike, even though the Lumberjack 100 was coincidentally going on just up the road at Big M at the same time. With that in my head, I struggled to hold back my desire to regale Wifey with tales of my ONE Lumberjack 100 finish in 2009 (and multiple DNFs in later years) but instead focused on our little pre-planned-spur-of-the-moment day-trip to the beach.
In all my 17+ years of writing this shit-show, I finally find myself with a bit of writer’s block. Whilst the masses rejoice in knowing they are safe from my long-winded posts of sophomoric humor, tales of self-loathing, sub-par chubby middle-aged white guy pseudo adventures, and nonsensical word salad, I bemoan my stifled mind.
Like Al Camus (not that one, the Al Camus that works at Marty’s Bar washing dishes) once said, “sometimes you have to look over your shoulder before you can fail.” And that, my friends, is why I am here today.
The past couple of weeks have been a blur of keeping up with B’s last days as a high school senior and his last weeks of club soccer. Somewhere between all that stuff, I’ve been at the gym 3 to 4 times a week, taking care of the springtime needs of the Cul De Sac Shack and getting out for some creeps around the woods, stalking birds and other critters with my camera.
You may or may not remember the issues with my vision that sent me to my eye doctor a few weeks ago, where I was diagnosed with cataracts and sent to see an eye surgeon to get shit rolling for surgery this summer. Well, the appointment with the surgeon was this morning, and after a bunch of tests, it turns out I do NOT have cataracts but was suffering from a dry eye episode that was causing the blurred vision and light sensitivity.
Just a quick post to prove that I’m still alive. I know the value of that is questioned by many, including myself, but I’m still here, just like that faded mustard stain on your favorite Superchunk t-shirt1. It’s just that life has been busy with many un-blog-worthy things.
I feel like I have had too many “lost weeks” lately. And by that, I mean that I know I’ve done stuff; my house, husband, and dad duties, as well as hitting the gym, photo hikes, and Mindbender visits, but in the end, I don’t feel like I have anything to show for it.
On Friday, I found myself oddly void of the desire to visit the Caligula-like setting of the gym and all of its sweat, testosterone, and cluster bomb pheromone attacks camouflaged in Gymshark tights. Instead, I opted to get some shit done and then do a short photo walk at Meridian Park. This obviously did nothing for my rotund shape but did get me out of the house, and somedays, that’s all that matters.
It’s been a minute and a half since my last post, but there is a very good reason for that; weather, travel, gym time, and soccer dad duties have conspired to keep me out of the woods with my camera, and no one exactly wants to read this shit anyway, let alone read this shit when it has nothing to do with anything even vaguely outdoor-related and only features photos of my kid playing soccer, a bowl of pasta I made for lunch, or my dogs. Unless, of course, I’ve misjudged my ever-dwindling audience and the blog’s SEO stats (I think I have those).
It’s Friday morning, and I’m writing this to kill some time before going to the gym to lift heavy things for no reason. I am also writing in an attempt to cajole the last shreds of motivation in my mind into doing such an absurd thing. I feel like a sassy $5 hooker talking up my game to any pedestrian walking down my side of the street. And as you might imagine, motivational talk from someone who is blindly confidant yet so clearly undervalues their talents is not great. Of course, I’m also trying to quash the mental snapshot of myself wearing a crop top, booty shorts, pink wig, fishnets, and combat boots as I hustle my side of the cul de sac. “$5, and I’ll show you the time of your life. Where else are you gonna get chlamydia this good? ‘Cmon, baby.” Or something like that.
