I know, I know, I’ve been beating dead horses, playing on repeat, stuck in a rut, flogging the bishop, and smacking my mackerel for two weeks now. OK, maybe not those last two but all the rest applies; I’ll explain.
Posts Tagged → being a michigander-burgher-ite
Getting Out & Coming Down
I had been rolling along (going nowhere fast) with my Zwifting and eating OK enough until I came down with a slight case of body sludge (AKA a cold).
It’s long. Real long.
GoNotSoPro™ Time
Wifey and I are going out of the country for the first time ever in a couple of weeks; Jamaica if you must know. Not my first choice for my first time leaping fuck face Trump’s “wall” around the U.S., but it looks like it’s going to be a killer time celebrating our 20th anniversary (1.5 years later) with another couple we’re good friends who are celebrating their 25th. Sun, beach, warm water, rum, and boobs; that’s pretty much all I need to survive. As documented here, I’m a woodsy-type of guy, but there’s something to be said for being a beach sloth. And rum.
It’s Over
Despite the “woe is me” title of this post, things are pretty darn, not badish.
When I say “it’s over,” I am of course referring to the holiday season. Finished; done; caput. Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back, until you force yourself upon us like a horned up, drunk, conservative Supreme Court judge a year from now!!
Beating Myself, Paths, Off, Etc.
As I’ve documented here more than a few times of late, I haven’t been riding outside that much. Wait, reverse that, I haven’t been riding outside at ALL. I was beating myself up about that, but looking back at previous years, it seems that it’s not that unusual for me to sequester myself inside to do stuff this time of year.
On & Off & On Again
OK, I said I wouldn’t talk about riding indoors ’cause it’s not really riding, and there’s not too much to say about it. I’ve done a pretty good job with that, and there’s only been a few mentions of Zwifting on the Hammer in the Not So Stankment, but it appears that I am about to do it again. I’m sorry, but there’s more, trust me!
These Days
I can’t seem to find much to write about these days. Hell, I can barely find anything I want to do other than sleep, eat, and drink beer.
A Weak Back
Since the last volley of word salad hurled from my mind to the pages of this HTML concocted time suck, there has been much improvement to both body and mind.
Slackless Starts
After a Sunday that contained nothing but a short hike in the rain and some 12-ounce curls, the week has started off pretty not bad.