Last week I continued my 2022 Not Dead Yet Comeback Special with another 25.5 miles in my feet to bring my 4-week total to 92.6 miles, with at least 85 of those miles coming via hikes in the woods.
Tag Archives | being a michigander-burgher-ite
Chasing White Whales
When I last posted, I was just coming down (or is it up?) from a near (not really) nervous breakdown concerning my recent lipid panel test results.
The Unforgiven
In August, I wanted to start putting together hikes in the 5+ mile range and aim to do them at least four times a week. I thought it would fill a void between pointlessly “walking” on the Dreadmill and pushing myself physically like I do/did when mountain biking, all the while being in the woods with my camera. And I was right; it allowed all of that. However, forcing my more-out-of-shape-than-I-care-to-admit self to jump right into 5-mile hikes in the woods during the heat of August was not the best idea; my back paid the price, and I experienced multiple painful back spasms during those hikes.
Before The Switch Flips
In the past few weeks, I have found myself with a renewed enthusiasm for “doing stuff” outside. While that has done nothing for the barely noticeable gains I’ve made strength training in the gym, it has done wonders for my mind, which every year around this time takes a dip in a stank vat of “fuck everything and everyone; yes, even you.”
Parts & Miles
I spent the last few weeks moping around the house, letting my parts boss me into a state of misanthropy and apathy, but after some time with the O.G. Mindbender, a conversation with those pesky parts, and doing little things like avoiding the Bed of Torment for any reason other than sleeping and Sexy Time, I have bounced back harder than a Super Pinky off the skull of an annoying child. At least for now.
Empty Nests, Creeps, & Sharks
The first week of Empty Nest Syndrome was everything I expected it to be and more. And by that, I mean that I had all the expected symptoms of missing B, but because Jason gotta Jason, I also threw in a few days of malaise, regret, self-loathing, ennui, self-flagellation (not the good kind), and learning to talk in the third person as I come to grips with now being what can only be described as virtually useless to society. I’m not sure why I needed my son to start college to point out the obvious again, but here we are.
Digressing
I’ve been laying low on the posting as of late, mostly because I’ve done even less than I normally do. Sure, I made it to the gym a few times, but who cares if an aging, fat white dude goes to the gym or not? Actually, who cares if an aging, fat white dude does anything? I digress.
After a week filled with back spasms and shoulder issues, the next week greeted me with more bad luck and a slight summer head cold, followed a few days later by what I can only imagine was food poisoning; all I know is that my body felt like it was trying to expel a feces-covered demon via my intestinal track for 8 hours. I continue to digress.
A Week’s Hits & Misses
After the last week’s physical debacle, I was stoked to wake up on Saturday morning to near darkness and rain pissing down. That meant I could sit around like the mentally challenged obese sloth that I am and rest my back and shoulder without guilt. And ditto for Sunday, thank you very much.
When Monday and the start of another week of fresh hell arrived, I was eager to do something physical and returned to the gym for some time on the treadmill and light strength training.
New Shoes, Old Trails
Monday was one of those days that got away from me, and I never got around to “doing stuff.” So, I told myself that I would force myself outside Tuesday morning for a hike no matter what.
Creeps and Hikes
I managed to mentally bounce back last week and made up for my lack of doing stuff outside with two productive photo creeps at Meridian Park on Thursday and Sunday and a hot and muggy 5.25-mile hike at Deerfield Park on Friday.